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A TREATISE 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE, 



BY JOHN MASON, A.M. 



E coele descendit yvoOt oeavrov. — Juv. 

The proper stud}- of mankind is man. — Pope. 

m 



TO WHICH IS PREFIXED 

A BRIEF MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 



PUBLISHED BY CARLTON & PHILLIPS, 



COO MULBERRY-STREET. 

1856. 



K-X I Sir I 



Gift 

e and Mrs. tsaac R.HItt 
Juty 3, 1933 



PREFACE 



We consider Mason on Self-Knowledge 
one of the best books which we have ever 
read. It was our good fortune to fall in with 
an old copy of this work early in our minis- 
terial course, and the impressions which its 
perusal left upon the tablet of our heart are 
not yet erased. We have uniformly recom- 
mended it, especially to the young, as emi- 
nently adapted to prepare the mind for efforts 
in the pursuit of various knowledge. If we 
are ignorant of ourselves, what else can we 
know to any good purpose ? And in our 
efforts to acquire this knowledge, I am per- 
suaded, no book, except the Bible, will ren- 
der us more effective aid. Its great practical 



4 PREFACE. 

principles should be deeply impressed upon 
the mind of the Christian, the scholar, and 
the man of business. The teacher of religion 
especially should become perfectly familiar 
with them. 

In preparing the present edition, it has 
been our object to give it to the reader in as 
perfect a form as possible. We have conse- 
quently used two different editions, and have 
availed ourselves of the excellences of both, 
We have retained the notes in their appro- 
priate places as inserted by the author, 
which, by some editors, have been thrown 
into an appendix, and by others omitted alto- 
gether. We have also left the text perfect, 
which in some editions is mutilated : thus 
giving to the public an edition of the work 
more complete than any which has been 
issued, either in Europe or in this country? 
in modern times 



PREFACE. 5 

The author, in a few instances, proceeds 
upon philosophical principles which are 
now exploded. Such passages we have not 
scrupled to retain, presuming that the intelli- 
gent reader will recollect the period in which 
he lived, and, moreover, that these principles 
are not at all essential to the general scope 
of his argument. We preferred this course 
to printing the work in a state of mutilation, 
which would make it appear like a work of 
more recent date than the times of the au- 
thor. If the writers of the last century are 
defective in some branches of learning, they 
are not barren of thought, a commodity not 
always so abundant in the authors of our own 
time as to surfeit their readers. We would 
by no means undervalue the improvements 
of the present age in physical and mental 
philosophy ; but we are free to confess, that 
we would, in some instances, readily ex- 
change a considerable portion of these for a 



6 PREFACE. 

tithe of the intellectual and moral power 
wielded by the giants of the preceding cen- 
tury. We love the old English authors, and 
w r e would not lay hands upon the venerable 
monuments of their piety and learning with- 
out the utmost necessity. With these expla- 
nations, we now put this invaluable treasure 
into the hands of the reader, most devoutly 
praying that it may be made to him a pre- 
sent and an eternal blessing. 

George Peck. 

December 11, 1842. 



CONTENTS. 



PART I. 

Chap. Page 

I. The nature and importance of the subject . 39 
II. The several branches of self-knowledge. 
We must know what sort of creatures 
we. are, and what we shall be 49 

III. The several relations in which we stand to 

God, to Christ, and our fellow-creatures . 56 

IV. We must duly consider the rank and sta- 

tion of life in which Providence hath 
placed us, and what it is that becomes 

and adorns it 72 

V. Every man should be well acquainted with 
his own talents and capacities ; and in 
what manner they are to be exercised and 

improved to the greatest advantage 76 

VI. We must be well acquainted with our ina- 
bilities, and those things in which we are 
naturally deficient, as well as those in 

which we excel 79 

VII. Concerning the knowledge of our constitu- 
tional sins ,, 82 

VIII. The knowledge of our most dangerous 

temptations necessary to self-knowledge 88 



8 CONTENTS. 

Chap. Page 
IX. Self-knowledge discovers the secret preju- 
dices of the heart 92 

X. The necessity and means of knowing our 

natural tempers 108 

XI. Concerning the secret springs of our ac- 
tions 114 

XII. Every one that knows himself, is in a par- 
ticular manner sensible how far he is 
governed by a thirst of applause 117 

XIII. What kind of knowledge we are already 

furnished with, and what degree of es- 
teem we set upon it 122 

XIV. Concerning the knowledge, guard, and go- 

vernment of our thoughts 128 

XV. Concerning the memory 144 

XVI. Concerning the mental taste 148 

XVII. Of our great and governing views in life . 154 
XVIII. How to know the true state of our souls, 

and whether we are fit to die 156 

PART II. 

Showing the great excellence and advant- 
age of this kind of science 161 

1. Self-knowledge the spring of self-posses- 
sion 162 

II. Self-knowledge leads to a wise and steady 

conduct 166 

III. Humility the effect of self-knowledge 168 

IV. Charity another effect of self-knowledge . 171 
V. Moderation the effect of self-knowledge ... 173 

VI. Self-knowledge improves the judgment ... 176 



CONTENTS. 9 

Chap. Page 

VII. Self-knowledge directs the proper exercises 

of self-denial 179 

VIII. Self-knowledge promotes our usefulness in 

the world 183 

IX. Self-knowledge leads to a decorum and 

consistency of character 185 

X. Piety the effect of self-knowledge 188 

XI. Self-knowledge teaches us rightly to per- 
form the duties of religion 189 

XII. Self-lino wledge the best preparation for 

death 193 

PART III. 

Showing how self-knowledge is to be' at- 
tained 195 

I. Self-examination necessary to self-know- 
ledge 198 

II. Constant watchfulness necessary to self- 
knowledge 216 

III. We should have some regard to the opin- 

ions of others concerning us, especially 

of our enemies 218 

IV. Frequent converse with superiors a help 

to self-knowledge 223 

V. Of cultivating such a temper as will 
be the best disposition to self-know- 
ledge 225 

VI. To be sensible of our false knowledge, a 

good step to self-knowledge 228 

VET. Self-inspection peculiarly necessary upon 

some particular occasions 230 



10 CONTENTS. 

Chap. Page 
VIII. To know ourselves, we must wholly ab- 
stract from external appearances 237 

IX. The practice of self-knowledge a great 

means to promote it 239 

X. Fervent and frequent prayer the most 
effectual means for attaining true self- 
knowledge 248 



ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE 



REV. JOHN MASON, A. M. 



The Rev. John Mason, author of the ensu- 
ing Treatise on Self-Knowledge, was born at 
Dunmow, in Essex, in the year 1705-6. His 
father was a dissenting minister, and was, we 
apprehend, successively pastor to congrega- 
tions at Daventry in Northamptonshire ; Dun- 
mow in Essex ; and at Spaldwick in Lincoln- 
shire, at which last place he died, and was 
buried in the year 1722-3. This gentleman 
had a brother, the Rev. William Mason, a 
clergyman in the established Church, who, in 
the latter part of his life, held two livings, of 
which one was in Buckinghamshire, and the 
other in Derbyshire.* They were the children 

* From this circumstance a gentleman, who about five years 
ago had thoughts of presenting to the public an account of his 
relation, the author of Self-Knowledge, suspected that he was 

I 



12 LIFE OF REV. JOHN MASON. 

of the Rev. John Mason, A. M., who held the 
rectory of Water- Stratford, in the county of 
Bucks, and well known as author of a little 
posthumous work, published by his grand-son, 

a branch of the same family from which the Rev. William 
Mason, a well-known and excellent poet, was descended. He 
made, the inquiry, and received, in reply, the following letter : — 

" Aston, April 3, 1797. 
" Sir, — I am sorry that I can trace in the simple annals of 
my ancestry nothing which can afford me any ground for 
claiming either a direct or collateral relationship with Mr. 
John Mason of Cheshunt, who I believe to have been an ex- 
cellent Christian moralist, and whom, therefore, I should have 
been more proud of owning for one of my family, than if he 
had had part of the blood of all the Howards. My table of 
genealogy goes no higher than to Valentine Mason, clerk, who 
was born, as I suppose, in the latter part of the reign of Eli- 
zabeth, as I find from Torre's MSS. in the cathedral at York, 
which are held authentic documents ; that he resigned the 
vicarage of Driffield, a very small living, (of which, as pre- 
centor of York, I am now patron,) in 1623, for that of Ellough- 
ton in the same east riding of Yorkshire, (one I believe, at 
that time, little more valuable,) where he died in 1639. He 
had three sons and three daughters ; two of the sons, I believe, 
succeeded in trade at Kingston-upon-Hull, and the third, 
William, was brought up to the Church, and had the living 
of Wensley, near Richmond, in the north riding, who left a 
landed estate in various parishes in the east riding, of which, 
as the last male heir, I am now possessed, and with me the 
family name will be extinct. I have a paper of my grand- 
father's, Hugh Mason, who was collector of the customs at 
the port of Hull, which informs me that Valentine Mason de- 
scended, as a younger brother, from a Mason of Cheriton, 
alias Cherington, in Oxfordshire. But the truth of this (though 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MASOX. 13 

and recommended by Dr. Watts, entitled, " Se- 
lect Remains," &c, &c. In the preface to this 
work, the author is represented as a person of 
as eminent a character in the religious world 
as most ages have produced, and though by 
principle a conformist to the established Church 
of England, yet he was very far from cherish- 
ing a bitter spirit againt dissenters, or such as 

I tried by a friend in that county) I could not ascertain, and I 
believe it was merely founded on the same arms which all the 
Masons, as well as the Masons in France, bear, viz., a lion 
bifronted azure on a shield Or. You will, I hope, pardon me 
for giving you all these genealogical notices, as it is merely to 
show you that all I know of my family is bounded within the 
precincts of Yorkshire, and therefore I can claim no alliance 
with one seated in Essex or Buckinghamshire. 

" Though you speak much too highly of my poetical pro- 
ductions, your panegyric claims my thanks, which I herewith 
give you, and subscribe myself, with due regard, sir, 
" Your very much obliged and obedient servant, 

" W. Ma sox. 
" John Mason Good., Esq., Guilford-street." 

It has been thought proper to preserve the whole letter, as 
it is highly probable that it was the last Mr. Mason ever wrote. 
It is dated April the 3d, 1797 : on that very day, in conse- 
quence of a slight contusion which had previously happened 
as he was getting into his carriage, a mortification ensued, 
which in forty-eight hours put a period to his life. "The cha- 
racter," says his biographer, " with which he ought to be 
handed down to posterity, is that of a man virtuous in his 
morals, amiable in his manners, and ornamental in the republic 
of letters." See the Annual Necrology for 1797-8. 



14 LIFE OF REV. JOHN MASON. 

differed from him in opinion. He died at Wa- 
ter-Stratford in the county of Bucks, A. D. 1694, 
having been rector of that place twenty years. 
His fervour of spirit in the cause of God and 
religion was uncommon. His learning was 
considerable, his capacity above the common 
level, and his application extraordinary. 

We have not been able to ascertain to whom 
the subject of this memoir was indebted for the 
earlier part of his education ; but he pursued 
his academical studies as a candidate for the 
ministry under the Rev. and learned John Jen- 
nings, who presided at a very respectable semi- 
nary at Kibworth in Leicestershire about the 
year 1719, and afterward removed to Hinckley 
in the same county. When he had finished his 
studies, he became chaplain and private tutor 
in the family of Governor Feaks, at his seat 
near Hatfield. He could not have remained 
very long in this situation, as, in the year 
1729-30, he accepted an invitation to the pas- 
toral charge of a congregation at Dorking in 
Surry. It was not till after Mr. Mason had re- 
sided ten years at Dorking that he became 
known to the public as an author. His first 
piece was a sermon, published at the desire of 
those who heard it, entitled, " Subjection to 
the Higher Powers," preached November 5, 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MASON. 15 

1740. In the year 1743 he published, with- 
out his name, a tract, entitled, " A Plain and 
Modest Plea for Christianity, or a Sober and 
Rational Appeal to Infidels," &c., which was 
well received and much read, and through the 
medium of Dr. Walker, formerly tutor to an 
academy at Mile End, it procured for the au- 
thor, unsought for, the degree of A. M. from 
Edinburgh. His " Treatise on Self-Knowledge" 
was published in the year 1745, a work which 
has already passed through many editions, and 
which has been esteemed by able and impartial 
judges as one of the most useful treatises on 
practical piety that ever was written in the 
English, or perhaps in any language. It has 
been taken up as a book fit and proper to be dis- 
tributed among the poor, who are unable to 
procure books at their own expense, by several 
societies, both among dissenters and persons 
adhering to the established Church. It has not 
been confined to the language in which it was 
written, but has been translated and circulated 
in several countries on the continent. 

At Dorking Mr. Mason continued till July 
the 6th, 1746, where he was held in high esti- 
mation both as a preacher and a friend. To 
his hearers, he was able, at the close of seven- 
teen years' ministry, to appeal for their testi- 



16 LIFE OF REV. JOHN MASON. 

mony to the sincerity and earnestness of his 
labours in the cause in which he appears to 
have engaged from his heart. " During the 
whole course of my preaching among you," 
says he in his farewell discourse, " I have 
avoided controversial subjects as much as pos- 
sible ; that is, as far as is consistent with mi- 
nisterial fidelity. And those that I have hand- 
led were mostly such as were of the greatest 
importance to common Christianity ; which I 
have always endeavoured to treat in the plain- 
est manner I could. But my chief aim hath 
been to affect your minds and my own with a 
deeper sense of those great, uncontroverted 
principles of Christianity which enter into the 
very essence of religion, and without an habit- 
ual regard to which, our profession of it, and 
that of every party, is vain. For I have often 
thought, it is much more necessary to endea- 
vour to mend the heart than stuff the head. 
And that Christians in general have more need 
to have their spirits improved, than their under- 
standings informed ; and want more zeal rather 
than more light ; better tempers rather than 
better notions : and that a bad heart with right 
notions is much worse than a good heart with 
wrong notions ; for if the heart be wrong, it 
matters little that the head is right." 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MASON. 17 

Then, after recapitulating the principal duties 
incumbent upon them as Christians, and which 
at all times he had sedulously recommended as 
of prime importance, he concludes in the fol- 
lowing words : — 

" God is my witness, and so are you, that I 
never affected to warp your minds to party 
notions, to amuse you with empty specula- 
tions, to move you with vehement address, to 
please you with the jingling ornaments of 
style, or win you with the studied arts of 
speech ; my aim hath been to make my way 
to your hearts, by opening and inculcating to 
you, in the plainest and most unartful manner, 
those great and important truths which have 
first affected my own. What hath been my 
success, God knows : and what my fidelity. 
May he graciously forgive the defects both of 
preacher and hearers ! before whom we must 
both another day appear to answer for them. 
And O ! may we all find mercy of him in that day ! 

" And now, my dear Christian friends and 
brethren, farewell. I now take my final leave 
of you for ever as your minister and pastor. 
For all the instances of your affection and 
friendship, I heartily thank you. Wherein any 
of you have been defective in your regard to 
me as your minister, I heartily forgive you ; 
2 



18 LIFE OF REV. JOHN MASON. 

wherein I have been defective in my duty to 
you as my people, I heartily ask forgiveness. 
And may the God of all mercy forgive, accept, 
direct, and bless us all ; and preserve us to 
that happy world, where we shall meet to part 
no more !" 

At this period Mr. Mason, upon the invitation 
of a large and respectable congregation of dis- 
senters, removed to Cheshunt in Hertfordshire, 
where he spent the remainder of his days, as 
a very useful preacher. Nor was he less 
known as an author. During his residence at 
Cheshunt his publications were numerous and 
respectable, of the principal of which we shall 
here give an account. 

His largest work is entitled the " Lord's Day 
Evening Entertainment," in four volumes, con- 
taining fifty-two sermons, which he offered to 
the public as a " complete set of practical dis- 
courses for the use of families, recommending 
and urging the great and substantial points ot 
Christianity in a plain and striking manner, 
and free from all distinguishing peculiarities in 
style and sentiments." The second edition of 
this work, which has been popular in families, 
was published in the year 1754. 

In the year 1758 he published, in one 
volume, fifteen discourses, devotional and prac- 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MASON. 19 

tical, together with an historical dissertation on 
the analogy between the behaviour of God's 
people toward him. in the several periods of 
the Jewish and Christian church, and his cor- 
respondent dispensations toward them in those 
respective periods. The design of this disser- 
tation is to show, that however ready we may 
be to censure and condemn the temper and be- 
haviour of the Jews, yet that the conduct of 
Christians has been very much the same, in 
the several periods of the Christian church : 
and to point out some remarkable instances 
of analogy between the dealings of Provi- 
dence toward them, and his dispensations to- 
ward us ; in consequence of that similarity be- 
tween their conduct and ours. Our author has 
in this essay shown an extensive and accurate 
knowledge of ancient and modern history, and 
a considerable degree of critical acumen in 
pointing out the various analogies which sub- 
sist between the different histories ; he has 
rendered the whole highly interesting by the 
insertion of a great variety of historical and 
biographical facts, especially those which relate 
to the first reformers. 

In the year 1761 Mr. Mason published his 
" Christian Morals," in two volumes. The ob- 
ject of the author in these excellent discourses 



20 LIFE OF REV. JOHN MASON. 

was, he tells us, to moderate the zeal of Chris- 
tians for their several party distinctions, and to 
recall their attention to the acknowledged im- 
portance of those indisputed principles, with- 
out the practical influence of which no man 
can be a Christian, and all the good sense, and 
all the orthodoxy in the world will avail him 
nothing. " O," says he, " did deep humility, 
divine love, fervent faith, and heartfelt chari- 
ty, but once shed their heavenly influence in 
our souls ; how soon should we learn to de- 
spise that light chaff of mystic or minute subtle- 
ties in divinity which some are so fond of, and 
to bend all our cares and efforts, in depend- 
ance on divine grace, to cultivate in ourselves 
those holy dispositions, which constitute all 
our happiness, both in this world and for ever. 
" To contribute somewhat to this great end, 
I have once more cast in my mite, as what I 
judged to be of the greatest service I am capa- 
ble of doing the cause and gospel of Christ, 
while I live." 

To the second volume of these discourses is 
added a sermon on the death of George II.— 
" A king," says our author, " whose memory 
will be ever dear to all the friends of truth, 
moderation, and the Protestant religion." This 
and some other discourses on political occa- 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MASON. 2i 

sions exhibit in the writer a true patriot, and 
friend to the British constitution as settled at 
the revolution. Of the tories of that day, and 
those who would have brought in the detested 
race of the Stewarts, he says, " They who were 
most clamorous for non-resistance under the 
worst government, were always the most for- 
ward to oppose the best." 

Next to the " Treatise on Self-Knowledge," 
our author's most popular work is entitled, 
"The Student and Pastor, or directions Iiqw 
to attain to eminence and usefulness in those 
respective characters." These directions con- 
tain useful and salutary advice as to the 
management of time ; the best mode of reading 
and studying ; of improving by conversation 
and reflection ; of composing sermons, and of 
administering in all the public services of re- 
ligion : the last chapter of the work respects 
the difficulties which a minister may expect to 
meet with in the execution of his office, and 
his proper support and encouragement under 
them. 

About the year 1749, or '50, Mr. Mason 
published " An Essay on Elocution, intended 
chiefly for the assistance of those who instruct 
others in the art of reading, and of those who 
are called to speak in public," which was re- 



22 LIFE OF REV. JOHN MASON. 

ceived with great approbation, and in the course 
of a few years went through three impressions, 
and may be considered as the foundation of 
many of our public popular essays on the same 
subject. It was originally published without 
the name of the author, and met, in that state, 
with considerable encouragement and patron- 
age at one of our public universities ; but when 
Mr. Mason claimed it as his own, by prefixing 
his name to the second edition, that learned 
body is said to have scouted it from their walls 
as the work of a dissenter. 

On similar subjects we have " Essays on 
Poetical and Prosaic Numbers and Elocution ;" 
and " An Essay on the Power and Harmony 
of Prosaic Numbers." These tracts were well 
received by the public : of the former the author 
says, " I am sensible that my attempts to elu- 
cidate the power of numbers, both in poetry 
and prose, are far from going to the bottom of 
that curious and delightful subject, but if they 
are not deemed quite superficial, it is enough : 
they were never designed for profound and 
elaborate disquisitions. In short, they pretend 
to no more than what their titles express, 
essays to illustrate the first principles of that 
science which greatly engaged the attention 
of the ancient orators, but which has unac- 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MASON. 23 

countably fallen into so much neglect by the 
moderns." 

In the year 1761 Mr. Mason collected these 
several essays, and published them together in 
a small octavo volume. This, we apprehend, 
is the last edition of them ; but they are now, 
and have been for many years, exceedingly 
scarce, and rarely to be met with in catalogues. 

Notwithstanding the various and important 
engagements of Mr. Mason as an author and 
pastor of a large congregation, he found time 
for the education of several young gentlemen 
for the ministry; among these were the Rev. 
Mr. Stanshall, late of Chertsea, to whom, in 
the year 1753, he addressed "A Letter to a 
Friend upon his Entrance on the Ministerial 
Office ;" which contains directions to a minister 
with regard to his personal conduct, his private 
studies, and his public ministrations ; and the 
Rev. John Somersett, who was some years 
settled as pastor to a congregation at Chipping 
Ongar, in Essex, and who died in the year 1780. 
The course of polemical lectures which Mr. 
Mason read to his pupils were printed in the 
Protestant Magazine for the years 1794, 1795, 
and 1796. 

After a life devoted to the attainment and 
diffusion of useful knowledge, Mr. Mason died 



24 LIFE OF REV. JOHN MASON. 

February 10th, 1763, in the fifty-eighth year of 
his age. As a Christian minister, his time had 
been very equally divided between the congre- 
gations at Dorking and Cheshunt, a circum- 
stance which he particularly noticed to a friend 
and relation while he was on his dying pillow, 
and which he seems to have anticipated in the 
preface to his farewell sermon preached at 
Dorking. " Great," says he, " is my esteem, 
and great my affection for you ; and therefore 
great my concern at leaving you. There is but 
one scene more moving that I expect to go 
through, and that is, leaving the world. And 
then all the varying scenes of providence which 
are apt to fill our minds with grief and heavi- 
ness will be for ever at an end." 

His last illness was occasioned by a cold 
caught in visiting one of his congregation, who 
lived at the distance of about two miles from 
Cheshunt. Before he could return to his own 
house, he, and a friend that accompanied him, 
were surrounded in a fog and mist. Mr. Ma- 
son complained of a general chilliness, and 
never after that day went out of his house. He 
left behind him a widow, the daughter of the 
Rev. James Waters, of Uxbridge, but no child 
to exhibit a father's virtues, or emulate his ex- 
ample. 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MASON. 25 

He was buried in the church-yard of Ches- 
hunt, where there is the following inscription 
to his memory : — 

Here rests all that was mortal 

of the late Rev., learned, and pious 

JOHN MASON, A. M., 

who was Minister to the 

congregation of 

Protestant Dissenters in this parish 17 years. 

He ceased from his labours, 

and was called to receive his reward, 

Feb. 10, 1763, aged 58 years. 

"Be followers of them who through faith and 

patience inherit the promises." 

The character and general habits of Mr. 
Mason, as given by a surviving friend, together 
with what is said of him in a sermon preached 
by the Rev. John Hodge, on occasion of his 
death, will properly conclude the memoirs of a 
man respecting whom little is now known to 
the public. 

As to his general habits and mode of life, 
he was as regular and uniform as any man I 
ever knew ; he was not an early riser in the 
morning, being seldom up till about eight 
o'clock. After prayers, and reading a portion 
of the Scriptures, he breakfasted, then smoked 
his pipe, reading at the same time the newspa- 
per, or some modern publication. He then 



26 LIFE OF REV. JOHN MASON. 

retired to his study, where he spent the whole 
of the morning, except about an hour before 
dinner, which he usually devoted to walking or 
riding. After dinner he enjoyed his pipe and 
friend in a cheerful and easy manner : and 
either in his own family, with a select party 
of friends, or abroad in the society of some of 
his congregation, with whom he was in high 
estimation, he spent the remainder of the day. 
He was free, easy, communicative, and plea- 
sant in conversation, and much of the gentle- 
man appeared in all his behaviour. His ac- 
quaintance was much sought after, and he him- 
self took great delight in society. He was one 
of the association of ministers for Essex and 
Hertfordshire, and w r as an ornament to it, 
though, an account of the liberality of his reli- 
gious sentiments, one or two withdrew. His 
religious opinions were of the moderate kind, 
he was an enemy to controversy, and a friend 
to peace. Though abused by some, for want 
of knowing him better, and destitute themselves 
of the Christian temper and charity, he never 
returned railing, but submitted to the unjust 
contumely from a consciousness of the integrity 
of his heart. His sermons were correct, clear, 
nervous, and always illustrative of the text and 
doctrine he had chosen to explain ; they were 




LIFE OF REV. JOHN MASON. 27 

ever adapted to promote the purposes of piety 
and charity. " His religion," says Mr. Hodge, 
" appears to me to have been thoroughly ca- 
tholic, and therein truly Christian. While 
he himself, from principle, adhered to the cause 
of Protestant non-conformity, amidst all its 
present discouragements, as apprehending it to 
have the nearest connection with the cause of 
truth, and liberty, and serious godliness, still he 
kept himself at the greatest distance from every 
thing of a narrow party spirit, by confining 
Christianity to his own particular communion ; 
on the contrary, he was free to converse with 
others as with Christian brethren, ready to 
discern and acknowledge real merit, and es- 
teem true learning and piety wherever he met 
with it. 

" His removal from us (so it pleased unerring 
Wisdom to appoint) was after no long previous 
confinement, but of few days at most; during 
which, and under all the pains with which he 
had then to struggle, his mind appeared re- 
markably serene and composed : not a single 
murmuring, hardly a complaining word, was 
ever heard from him. As, through the goodness 
of an indulgent Providence, he retained the use 
of his reasoning powers to the last, so he was 



28 LIFE OF REV. JOHN MASON. 



found to the last calm and resigned ; his end 
truly was peace. 

" Proyidence hath taken him away in the 
midst of his days and usefulness ; when, con- 
sidering only his age and the apparent vigour 
of his constitution, his continued life, and further 
usefulness in the church of God, might have 
been with reason hoped for through many future 
years. But the supreme Lord of life and death 
hath done his pleasure ; and it is your duty, 
Christians, to submit and adore." 

In the pulpit he was grave and solemn. His 
voice was clear, his delivery deliberate, dis- 
tinct, and void of all affectation. He used little 
or no action ; but he was esteemed a pleasing 
preacher, because his manner was easy and 
natural. His sentences were concise, and he 
never studied length, or the art of protracting 
his discourses, so as to tire the people : he had 
rather, as he was accustomed to say, and ac- 
cording to his directions in the " Student and 
Pastor," " leave them longing than loathing." 



a 



PREFACE. 



The subject of the ensuing Treatise is of 
great importance ; and yet I do not remember 
to have seen it cultivated with that exactness, 
perspicuity, and force, with which many other 
moral and theological themes have been man- 
aged. And, indeed, it is but rarely that we find 
it particularly and fully recommended to us, in 
a set and regular discourse, either from the 
pulpit or the press. This consideration, together 
with a full persuasion of its great and extensive 
usefulness, hath put me upon an endeavour, in 
this manner, to render it more familiar to the 
minds of Christians. 

Mr. Baxter, indeed, has a treatise professed- 
ly upon this subject, entitled, The Mischief of 
Self- Ignorance, and the Benefit of Self- Acquaint- 
ance ; and I freely acknowledge some helps I 
received from him : but he hath handled it 
(according to his manner) in so lax and diffuse 
a way, introducing so many things into it that 
are foreign from it, omitting others that properly 
belong to it, and skimming over some with a too 
superficial notice, that t own I found myself 



SO PREFACE. 

much disappointed in what I expected from 
him, and was convinced that there wanted 
something more correct, nervous, and methodi- 
cal, to be written on this subject. 

I am far from having the vanity to think, that 
this, which I now offer to the public, is entirely 
free from those faults which I have remarked 
in that pious and excellent author ; and I am 
sensible, that, if I do not fall under a much 
heavier censure myself, it must be owing to the 
great candour of my reader, which he will be 
convinced I have some title to, if he but duly 
consider the nature and extent of the subject. 
For it is almost impossible to let the thoughts 
run freely upon so copious and comprehensive 
a theme, in order to do justice to it, without taking 
too large a scope in some particulars that have 
a near affinity to it, as I fear I have done, (part i, 
chap. 14,) concerning the knowledge, guard, 
and government of the thoughts. 

But there is a great difference between a 
short, occasional, and useful digression, and a 
wide rambling from the subject, by following 
the impulse of a luxuriant fancy. A judicious 
taste can hardly excuse the latter, though it 
may be content the author should gather a few 
flowers out of the common road, provided he 
soon returns into it again, 



PREFACE. 31 

Which brings to my mind another thing, 
which, I am sure, I have great reason to crave 
the reader's patience and pardon for, (the best 
end I know of prefaces,) and that is, the free 
use I have made of some of the ancient heathen 
writers in my marginal quotations, * which, I 
own, looks like an ostentation of reading, 
which I always abhorred. But it was con- 
versing with those authors that first turned my 
thoughts to this subject. And the good sense 
I met with in most of their aphorisms and sen- 
timents, gave me an esteem for them ; which 
made it difficult for me to resist the temptation 
of transcribing several of them, which I thought 
pertinent to the matter in hand. But, after all, 
I am ashamed to see what an old-fashioned 
figure they make in the margin. However, if 
the reader thinks they will too much interrupt 
the course of the subject, he may entirely omit 
them : though, by that means, he will perhaps 
lose the benefit of some of the finest sentiments 
in the book. 

I remember a modern writer I have very 
lately read is grievously offended with Mr. 
Addison for so much as mentioning the name 

* In many editions of this valuable work the "quotations" 
here referred to are omitted — in this, however, they are in- 
serted. — Am. Editor. 



32 PREFACE. 

of Plato, and presuming, in one of his Specta* 
tors, to deliver his notions of humour in a kind 
of allegory, after the manner of that Greek 
author ; which he calls a " formal method of 
trifling, introduced under a deep ostentation of 
learning, which deserves the severest rebuke ;" 
*and, perhaps, a more severe one was never 
given upon so small a provocation. From gen- 
tlemen of so refined and very nice a taste, I 
can expect no mercy. But the public is to 
judge whether this be not as culpable and 
nauseous an affectation as the contrary one, 
which prevailed so much in the last century. 

One great view I had in mine eye when I 
put these thoughts together, was the benefit of 
youth, and especially those of them that are 
students and candidates for the sacred ministry ; 
for which they will find no science more im- 
mediately necessary (next to a good acquaint- 
ance with the word of God) than that which is 
recommended to them in the following Treatise ; 
to which every branch of human literature is 
subordinate, and ought to be subservient. For, 
certain it is, the great end of philosophy, both 
natural and moral, is to know ourselves, and to 
know God. "The highest learning is to be 
wise, and the greatest wisdom is to be good ;" 
as Marcus Antoninus somewhere observes. 



PREFACE. 33 

It has often occurred to my mind, in digest- 
ing my thoughts upon this subject, what a pity 
it is that this most useful science should be so 
generally neglected in the modern methods of 
education ; and that preceptors and tutors, both 
in public and private seminaries of learning, 
should forget, that the forming the manners 
is more necessary to a finished education than 
furnishing the minds of youth. Socrates 
thought so, who made all his philosophy sub- 
servient to morality ; and took more pains to 
rectify the tempers, than replenish the under- 
standing, of his pupils ; and looked upon all 
knowledge as useless speculation that was not 
brought to this end, to make the person a 
wiser or a better man. And without doubt, if, in 
the academy, the youth has once happily learned 
the great art of managing his temper, governing 
his passions, and guarding his foibles, he will 
find a more solid advantage from it in after life, 
than he could expect from the best acquaintance 
with all the systems of ancient and modern 
philosophy. 

It was a very just and sensible answer 
which Agesilaus, the Spartan king, returned to 
one who asked him, what that was in which 
youth ought principally to be instructed ? He 
replied, " That which they will have most need 
3 



34 PREFACE. 

to practise when they are men." Were this 
single rule but carefully attended to in the 
method of education, it might probably be con- 
ducted in a manner much more to the advan- 
tage of our youth than it ordinarily is. For, as 
Dr. Fuller observes, " that pains we take in 
books or arts which treat of things remote 
from the use of life, is but a busy idleness." 
And what is there in life which youth will 
have more frequent occasion to practise than 
this ? What is there which they afterward 
more regret the want of? What is there in 
which they want a greater help and assistance 
than the right government of their passions and 
prejudices ? And what more proper season to 
receive those assistances, and to lay a founda- 
tion for this difficult, but very important science, 
than the early part of youth ? 

It may be said, "It is properly the office 
and care of parents to watch over and correct 
the tempers of their children in the first years 
of their infancy, when it may easily be done ;" 
but if it be not effectual then, (as it very seldom 
is,) there is the more necessity for it afterward. 
But the truth is, it is the proper office and care 
of all who have the charge of youth, and ought 
to be looked upon as the most important and 
necessary part of education 



PREFACE. 35 

It was the observation of a great divine and 
reformer, that " he who acquires his learning 
at the expense of his morals, is the worse for 
his education." And we may add that he who 
does not improve his temper, together with his 
understanding, is not much the better for it ; 
for he ought to measure his progress in science 
by the improvement of his morals ; and remem- 
ber, that he is no further a learned man, than he 
is a wise and good man ; and that he cannot be 
a finished philosopher till he is a Christian. 

But whence is it, that moral philosophy, 
which was so carefully cultivated in the ancient 
academy, should be forced in the modern to 
give place to natural, that was originally de- 
signed to be subservient to it ? which is to 
exalt the handmaid into the place of the mis- 
tress ; which appears not only a preposterous, 
but a pernicious method of instruction : for, as 
the mind takes a turn of future life, suitable to 
the tincture it hath received in youth, it will 
naturally conclude, that there is no necessity to 
regard, or, at least, to lay any stress upon those 
things which were never inculcated upon it 
as things of importance then ; and so will grow 
up in a neglect or disesteem of those things 
which are more necessary to make a person 
a wise and truly understanding man, than all 



36 PREFACE. 

those rudiments of science he brought with him 
from the school or the college. 

It is really a melancholy thing to see a 
young gentleman of shining parts and a sweet 
disposition, who has gone through the common 
course of academical studies, come out into the 
world under an absolute government of his pas- 
sions and prejudices : which have increased 
with his learning, and which, when he comes 
to be better acquainted with human life, and 
human nature, he is soon sensible and ashamed 
of ; but perhaps is never able to conquer as long 
as he lives, for w r ant of that assistance which 
he ought to have received in his education ; for 
a wrong education is one of those three things 
to which it is owing (as an ancient Christian 
philosopher justly observes) that so few have 
the right government of their passions. 

I would not be thought to disparage any part 
of human literature ; but should be glad to see 
this most useful branch of science, the know- 
ledge of the heart, the detecting and correcting 
hurtful prejudices, and the right government of 
the temper and passions, in more general 
esteem, as necessary at once to form the gen- 
tleman, the scholar, and the Christian. 

And if there be any thing in the following 
sheets which may be helpful to students, who 



PREFACE. 37 

have a regard to the right government of their 
minds, while they are furnishing them with 
useful knowledge, I would particularly recom- 
mend them to their perusal. 

I have nothing further to add, but to desire 
the reader's excuse for the freedom with which 
I have delivered my sentiments in this matter, 
and for detaining him so long from the subject 
of the ensuing Treatise, which I now leave to 
his candid and serious thoughts, and the bless- 
ing of Almighty God to make it useful to him. 



A TREATISE 

ON 

SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 



PART I. 
CHAPTER I. 

The nature and importance of the subject. 

A desire of knowledge is natural to all 
human minds ; and nothing discovers the true 
quality and disposition of the mind more, than 
the particular kind of knowledge it is most 
fond of. 

Thus we see that low and little minds are 
most delighted with the knowledge of trifles, as 
in children ; an indolent mind, with that which 
serves only for amusement, or the entertainment 
of the fancy ; a curious mind is best pleased 
with facts ; a judicious, penetrating mind, with 
demonstration and mathematical science ; a 
worldly mind esteems no knowledge like that 
of the world : but a wise and pious man, before 
all other kinds of knowledge, prefers that of 
God and his own soul. 



40 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

But some kind of knowledge or other the 
mind is continually craving after, and after a 
further proficiency in : and, by considering 
what kind of knowledge it most of all desires, 
its prevailing turn and temper may easily be 
known. 

This desire of knowledge, like other affec- 
tions planted in our natures, will be very apt to 
lead us wrong, if it be not well regulated. 
When it is directed to improper objects, or 
pursued in an improper manner, it degenerates 
into a vain and criminal curiosity. A fatal in- 
stance of this in our first parents we have upon 
sacred record, the unhappy effects of which are 
but too visible in all. 

Self-knowledge is the subject of the ensuing 
Treatise ; a subject which, the more I think of, 
the more important and extensive it appears : 
so important, that even' branch of it seems 
absolutely necessary to the right government of 
the life and temper ; and so extensive, that 
the nearer view we take of the several branches 
of it, the more are still opening to the new, as 
necessarily connected with it as the other. 
Like what we find in microscopical observa- 
tions on natural objects, the better the glasses, 
and the nearer the scrutiny, the more wonders 
we explore ; and the more surprising dicoveries 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 41 

we make of certain properties, parts, or affec- 
tions belonging to them, which were never 
before thought of. In order to a true self- 
knowledge, the human mind, with its various 
powers and operations, must be narrowly 
inspected ; all its secret springs and motives 
ascertained; otherwise our self-acquaintance 
will be but partial and defective ; and the heart 
after all will deceive us. So that in treating 
of this subject there is no small danger, either 
of doing injury to it, by a slight and superficial 
examination on the one hand, or of running 
into a research too minute and philosophical 
for common use on the other. These two ex- 
tremes I shall keep in my eye, and endeavour 
to steer a middle course between them. 

"Know thyself" is one of the most useful and 
comprehensive precepts in the whole moral 
system. And it is well known in how great a 
veneration this maxim was held by the ancients ; 
and how highly the duty of self-examination 
was esteemed as necessary to it. 

Thales, one of the seven wise men of Greece, 
is said to have been the first author of it. He 
used to say, that for a man to know himself is 
the hardest thing in the world. It was then 
adopted by Chilo, another of the seven sages, 
and is one of the three precepts which Pliny 



42 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

affirms to have been consecrated at Delphos in 
golden letters. It was afterward greatly ad- 
mired, and frequently adopted by others, till at 
length it acquired the authority of a divine 
oracle ; and was supposed to have been given 
originally by Apollo himself. Of which general 
opinion Cicero gives us this reason ; " because 
it hath such a weight of sense and wisdom in 
it as appears too great to be attributed to any 
man." And this opinion, of its coming origi- 
nally from Apollo himself, perhaps was the 
reason that it was written in golden capitals 
over the door of his temple at Delphos. 

And why this excellent precept should not 
be held in as high esteem in the Christian 
world as it was in the heathen, is hard to con- 
ceive. Human nature is the same now as it 
was then : the heart as deceitful ; and the 
necessity of watching, knowing, and keeping it 
the same. Nor are we less assured that this 
precept is divine : nay, we have a much 
greater assurance of this than they had ; they 
supposed it came down from heaven, we know 
it did ; what they conjectured, we are sure of. 
For this sacred oracle is dictated to us in a 
manifold light, and explained to us in various 
views, by the Holy Spirit, in that revelation 
which God hath been pleased to give us as our 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 43 

guide to duty and happiness ; by which, as in 
a glass, we may survey ourselves, and know 
what manner of persons we are. James i, 23. 

This discovers to ourselves what we are ; 
pierces into the inmost recesses of the mind ; 
strips off every disguise ; lays open the inward 
part ; makes a strict scrutiny into the very soul 
and spirit ; and critically judges of the thoughts 
and intents of the heart. It shows with what 
exactness and care we are to search and try 
our spirits, examine ourselves, and watch 
our ways, and keep our hearts, in order to 
acquire this important self-science ; which it 
often calls us to do. " Examine yourselves ; 
prove your own selves ; know you not your- 
selves ?* Let a man examine himself." 1 Cor. 
xi, 28. Our Saviour upbraids his disciples 

* Though the Greek word, 2 Cor. xiii, 5, signifies to ap- 
prove as well as to prove, yet that our translators have hit 
upon the true sense of the word here, in rendering it prove 
yourselves, is apparent, not only from the word immediately 
preceding, which is of the same import, but because self-pro- 
bation is always necessary to a right self-approbation. 

M Eveiy Christian ought to try himself, and may know him- 
self if he be faithful in examining. The frequent exhortations 
of Scripture hereunto imply both these, viz., that the know- 
ledge of ourselves is attainable, and that we should endeavour 
after it. Why should the apostle put them upon examining 
and proving themselves, unless it was possible to know them- 
selves upon such trying and proving?" — Bennet's Christian 
Oratory, p. 568. 



44 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

with their self-ignorance, in not knowing 
" what manner of spirits they were of," Luke 
ix, 55. And saith the apostle, "If a man 
(through self-ignorance) thinketh himself to be 
something when he is nothing, he deceiveth 
himself. But let every man prove his work, 
and then shall he have rejoicing in himself, 
and not in another." Gal. vi, 3, 4. Here we 
are commanded, instead of judging others, to 
judge ourselves ; and to avoid the inexcusable 
rashness of condemning others for the very 
crimes we ourselves are guilty of, which a self- 
ignorant man is very apt to do ; nay, to be 
more offended at a small blemish in another's 
character, than at a greater in his own ; upon 
which folly, self-ignorance, and hypocrisy, our 
Saviour with just severity animadverts. Matt, 
vii, 3-5. 

And what stress was laid upon this under the 
Old Testament dispensation appears sufficiently 
from those expressions : " Keep thy heart with 
all diligence," Prov. iv, 23. " Commune with 
your own heart," Psalm iv, 4. " Search me, O 
God, and know my heart ; try me, and know 
my thoughts," Psalm cxxxix, 23. " Examine me, 
O Lord, and prove me ; try my reins and my 
heart," Psalm xxvi, 2. " Let us search and try 
our ways," Lam. iii, 4. " Recollect, recollect 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 45 

yourselves, O nation not desired,"* Zeph. ii, 1. 
And all this is necessary to that self-acquaint- 
ance which is the only proper basis of solid 
peace.f 

Were mankind but more generally convinced 
of the importance and necessity of this self- 
knowledge, and possessed with a due esteem 
for it ; did they but know the true way to attain 
it ; and under a proper sense of its excellence, 
and the fatal effects of self-ignorance, did they 
but make it their business and study every day 
to cultivate it, how soon should we find a happy 
alteration in the manners and tempers of men ! 
But the evil is, men will not think ; will not 
employ their thoughts,. in good earnest, about 
the things which most of all deserve and de- 
mand them. By which unaccountable indo- 
lence, and aversion to self-reflection, they 
are led, blindfold and insensibly, into the most 

The Hebrew verb properly signifies to glean, or to gather 
together scattered sticks or straws ; as appears from all the 
places where the word is used in the Old Testament. Exod. 
v, 7, 12 ; Num. xv, 32 ; 1 Kings xvii, 10. Hence by an 
easy metaphor it signifies to recollect, or to gather the scat- 
tered thoughts together ; and ought in this place to be so ren- 
dered. 

f Clemens Alexandrinus says, that Moses by that phrase, 
so common in his writings, Take heed to thyself, (Exod. x, 
28 ; xxxiv, 12 ; Deut. iv, 9,) means the same thing as the 
ancients did by their " Know thyself." 



46 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

dangerous path of infidelity and wickedness 
as the Jews were heretofore ; of whose amaz- 
ing ingratitude and apostasy God himself 
assigns this single cause : " my people do not 
consider," Isa. i, 3.* 

Self-knowledge is that acquaintance with 
ourselves which shows us what we are, and do ; 
and ought to be, and do, in order to our living 
comfortably and usefully here, and happily 
hereafter. The means of it is self-examina- 
tion ; the end of it self-government, and self- 
enjoyment. It principally consists in the 
knowledge of our souls ; which is attained by 
particular attention to their various powers, 
capacities, passions, inclinations, operations, 
state, happiness, and temper. For a man's soul 
is properly himself. Matt, xvi, 26, compared 
with Luke ix, 25. The body is but the house, 
the soul is the tenant that inhabits it ; the body 
is the instrument, the soul the artist that di- 
rects it.f 

* " There is nothing men are more deficient in than know- 
ing their own characters. I know not how this science comes 
to be so much neglected. We spend a great deal of time in 
learning useless things, but take no pains in the study of our- 
selves ; and in opening the folds and doubles of the heart." 
— Reflections on Ridicule, p. 61. 

f " When you talk of a man, I would not have you tack flesh 
and blood to the notion, nor those limbs which are made out 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 47 

This science, which is to be the subject of 
the ensuing Treatise, hath these three peculiar 
properties in it, which distinguish it from, and 
render it preferable to, all others : (1.) "It is 
equally attainable by all." It requires no strength 
of memory, no force of genius, no depth of 
penetration, as many other sciences do, to come 
at a tolerable acquaintance with them ; which 
therefore renders them inaccessible by the 
greatest part of mankind. Nor is it placed out 
of their reach, through a want of opportunity, 
and proper assistance and direction how to ac- 
quire it, as many other parts of learning are. 
Every one of a common capacity hath the op- 
portunity and ability to acquire it, if he will but 
recollect his rambling thoughts, turn them in 
upon himself, watch the motions of his heart, 
and compare them with his rule. (2.) " It is 
of equal importance to all, and of the highest 
importance to every one."* Other sciences are 
suited to the various conditions of life. Some 
more necessary to some, others to others. But 

of it ; these are but tools for the soul to work with ; and no 
more a part of a man, than an axe or a plain is a piece of a 
carpenter. It is true, nature hath glued them together, and 
they grow as it were to the soul, and there is all the diffei 
ence." — Collier. 
* " 'Tis virtue only makes our bliss below, 

And all our knowledge is ourselves to know." — Pope 



48 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

this equally concerns every one that hath an 
immortal soul, whose final happiness he desires 
and seeks. (3.) " Other knowledge is very apt 
to make a man vain ; this always keeps him 
humble." Nay, it is always for want of this 
knowledge that men are vain of that they have. 
"Knowledge purTeth up," 1 Cor. viii, 1. A 
small degree of knowledge often hath this effect 
on weak minds. And the reason why greater 
attainments in it have not so generally the same 
effect, is, because they open and enlarge the 
views of the mind so far, as to let into it, at 
the same time, a good degree of self-know- 
ledge : for the more true knowledge a man hath, 
the more sensible he is of the want of it, which 
keeps him humble. 

And now, reader, whoever thou art, whatever 
be thy character, station, or distinction in life, 
if thou art afraid to look into thine heart, and 
hast no inclination to self-acquaintance, read no 
further, lay aside this book ; for thou wilt find 
nothing here that will flatter thy self-esteem, 
but, perhaps, something that may abate it. But, 
if thou art desirous to cultivate this important 
kind of knowledge, and to live no longer a 
stranger to thyself, proceed ; and keep thy eye 
open to thine own image, with whatever unex- 
pected deformity it may present itself to thee , 



.SELF-KXOWLEDGE. 49 

and patiently attend, while, by divine assist- 
ance, I endeavour to lay open thine own heart 
to thee, and lead thee to the true knowledge of 
thyself, in the following chapters. 



CHAPTER II. 

The several branches of self-knowledge. We must know 
what sort of creatures we are, and what we shall be. 

That we may have a more distinct and or- 
derly view of this subject, I shall here consider 
the several branches of self-knowledge ; or 
some of the chief particulars wherein it con- 
sists : whereby perhaps it will appear to be 
a more copious and comprehensive science 
than we imagine. And, 

(1.) To know ourselves, is "to know and 
seriously consider w T hat sort of creatures we 
are, and what we shall be." 

1. "What we are." 

Man is a complex being, rpifxepTjg vrroaraaig, 
a tripartite person, or a compound creature, made 
up of three distinct parts, viz., the body, which 
is the earthy or mortal part of him ; the soul, 
which is the animal or sensitive part ; and the 
4 



50 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

spirit, or mind, which is the rational and im- 
mortal part. Each of these three parts has 
its respective office assigned it ; and a man 
then acts becoming himself, when he keeps 
them duly employed in their proper functions, 
and preserves their natural subordination. But 
it is not enough to know this merely as a point 
of speculation ; we must pursue and revolve the 
thought, and urge the consideration to all the 
purposes of a practical self-knowledge. 

We are not all body, nor mere animal creatures. 
We have a more noble nature than the inanimate 
or brutal part of the creation. We can not 
only move and act freely, but we observe in 
ourselves a capacity of reflection, study, and 
forecast ; and various mental operations, of 
which irrational animals discover no symptoms. 
Our souls, therefore, must be of a more excellent 
nature than theirs ; and from the power of 
thought with which they are endowed, they are 
proved to be immaterial substances, and con- 
sequently, in their own nature, capable of im- 
mortality. And that they are actually immortal, 
or will never die, the sacred Scriptures do 
abundantly testify. Let us then hereupon se- 
riously recollect ourselves in the following so- 
liloquy. 

" O my soul, look back but a few vears, and 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 51 

thou wast nothing ! And how didst thou spring- 
out of that nothing ? Thou couldst not make 
thyself. That is quite impossible. Most cer- 
tain it is, that the same almighty, self-existent, 
and eternal Power, which made the world, 
made thee also out of nothing, called thee into 
being when thou wast not, gave thee those rea- 
soning and reflecting faculties which thou art 
now employing in searching out the end and 
happiness of thy nature. It was he, O my soul, 
that made thee intelligent and immortal. It 
was he that placed thee in this body, as in a 
prison ; w T here thy capacities are cramped, thy 
desires debased, and thy liberty lost. It was 
he that sent thee into this world, which, by all 
circumstances, appears to be a state of short 
discipline and trial. And wherefore did he 
place thee here, when he might have made 
thee a more free, unconfined, and happy spirit ? 
But check that thought ; it looks like too pre- 
sumptuous a curiosity. A more needful and 
important inquiry is, What did he place thee 
here for ? And what doth he expect from thee, 
while thou art here ? What part hath he allot- 
ted me to act on the stage of human life ; where 
he, angels, and men, are spectators of my be- 
haviour 1 The part he hath given me to act here 
is, doubtless, a very important one ; because it 



52 SELF-KNtfWLEDGE. 

is for eternity.* And what is it but to live up 
to the dignity of my rational and intellectual 
nature, and as becomes a creature born for im- 
mortality 1 

"And tell me, O my soul, (for, as I am now 
about to cultivate a better acquaintance with 
thee, to whom I have been too long a stranger, 
I must try thee, and put many a close question 
to thee,) tell me, I say, w T hile thou confinest 
thy desires to sensual gratifications, wherein 
dost thou differ from the beasts that perish ? 
Captivated by bodily appetites, dost thou not put 
thyself upon a level with the lower class of be- 
ings, which were made to serve thee ; offer an 
indignity to thyself, and despise the work of 
thy Maker's hands ? O remember thy heavenly 
extract ; remember thou art a spirit ! Check, 
then, the solicitations of the flesh ; and dare to 
do nothing that may diminish thy native excel- 
lence, dishonour thy high original, or degrade 
thy noble nature. But let me still urge it. Con- 
sider, (I say,) O my soul, that thou art an im- 
mortal spirit. Thy body dies ; but thou, thou 

* It is said when Virgil was asked by his friend, why he 
studied so much accuracy in the plan of his poem, the propri- 
ety of his characters, and the purity of his diction, he replied, 
" I am writing for eternity." "What more weighty considera- 
tion to justify and enforce the utmost vigilance and circum- 
spection of life than this, »* I am living for eternity." 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 53 

must live for ever, and thy eternity must take 
its tincture from the manner of thy behaviour, 
and the habits thou contractest, during this 
thy short copartnership with flesh and blood. 
! do nothing now but what thou may est 
with pleasure look back upon a million of ages 
hence. For know, O my soul, that thy self- 
consciousness and reflecting faculties will not 
leave thee with thy body; but will follow thee 
after death, and be the instrument of unspeak- 
able pleasure or torment to thee in that sepa- 
rate state of existence.*' 

(2.) In order to a full acquaintance with our- 
selves, we must endeavour to know not only 
what we are, but what we shall be. 

And O ! what different creatures shall we 
soon be from what we now are ! Let us look 
forward, then, and frequently glance our 
thoughts toward death ; though thev cannot 
penetrate the darkness of that passage, or reach 
the state behind it. That lies veiled from the 
eyes of our mind : and the great God hath not 
thought fit to throw so much light upon it, as to 
satisfy the anxious and inquisitive desires the 
soul hath to know it. However, let us make 
the best use we can of that little light which 
Scripture and reason have let in upon this dark 
and important subject. 



54 SELF-KNOWLEDGE 

" Compose thy thoughts, O ray soul, and 
imagine how it will fare with thee when thou 
goest, a naked, unembodied spirit, into a world, 
an unknown world of spirits, with all thy self- 
consciousness about thee, where no material 
object shall strike thine eye, and where thy 
dear partner and companion, the body, cannot 
come nigh thee ; but where, without it, thou 
wilt be sensible of the most noble satisfac- 
tions, or the most exquisite pains. Embarked 
in death, thy passage will be dark; and the 
shore, on which it will land thee, altogether 
strange and unknown. ' It doth not yet appear 
what we shall be,'"* 

* " Thou must expire, my soul, ordain'd to range 

Through unexperienced scenes, and myst'ries strange ; 

Dark the event, and dismal the exchange. 

But, when compell'd to leave this house of clay, 

And to an unknown somewhere wing thy way : 

When time shall be eternity, and thou 

Shalt be thou know'st not what, nor where, nor how, 

Trembling and pale, what wilt thou see or do ? 

Amazing state ! No wonder that we dread 

The thoughts of death, or faces of the dead. 

His black retinue sorely strikes our mind ; 

Sickness and pain before, and darkness all behind. 

Some courteous ghost, the secret then reveal ; 
Teach us what you have felt, and we must feek 
You warn us of approaching death, and why 
Will you not teach us w T hat it is to die ? 
But having shot the gulf, you love to view 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 55 

That revelation which God hath pleased to 
make of his will to mankind was designed 
rather to fit us for the future happiness, and 
direct our way to it, than open to us the par- 
ticular glories of it, or distinctly show us what 
it is. This it hath left still very much a mys- 
tery ; to check our too curious inquiries into 
the nature of it, and to bend our thoughts more 
intently to that which more concerns us, viz., 
an habitual preparation for it. And what that is, 
we cannot be ignorant, if we believe either our 
Bible or our reason. For both these assure us, 
that " that which makes us like to God, is the 
only thing that can fit us for the enjoyment of 
him." Here, then, let us hold. Let our great 
concern be, to be " holy as he is holy." And 
then, and then only, are we sure to enjoy him, 
" in whose light we shall see light." And, be 
the future state of existence what it will, we 
shall some way be happy there, and much more 

Succeeding spirits plunged along like you ; 
Nor lend a friendly hand to guide them through. 

When dire disease shall cut or age untie 
The knot of life, and suffer us to die : 
When, after some delay, some trembling strife, 
The soul stands quiv'ring on the ridge of life ; 
With fear and hope she throbs, then curious tries 
Some strange hereafter, and some hidden skies." 

Norris. 



56 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

happy than we can now conceive ; though, in 
what particular manner we know not, because 
God hath not revealed it. 



CHAPTER III. 

The several relations in which we stand to God, to Christ, 
and our fellow-creatures. 

II. " Self-knowledge requires us to be well 
acquainted with the various relations in which 
we stand to other beings, and the several duties 
that result from those relations." And, 

(1.) " Our first and principal concern is to 
consider the relation we stand in to Him who 
gave us our being." 

We are the creatures of his hand, and the 
objects of his care. His power upholds the 
being his goodness gave us ; his bounty accom- 
modates us with the blessings of this life ; and 
his grace provides for us the happiness of a 
better. Nor are we merely his creatures, but 
his rational and intelligent creatures. It is the 
dignity of our natures, that we are capable of 
knowing and enjoying him that made us. And, 
as the rational creatures of God, there are two 
relations especially that we stand in to him ; 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 57 

the frequent consideration of which is abso- 
lutely necessary to a right, self-knowledge. 
For, as our Creator, he is our King and Father : 
and, as his creatures, we are the subjects of his 
kingdom, and the children of his family. 

1. " We are the subjects of his kingdom." 
And, as such, we are bound, 

(1.) To yield a faithful obedience to the laws 
of his kingdom. And the advantages by which 
these come to be recommended to us above all 
• human laws, are many. They are calculated 
for the private interest of every one, as well as 
that of the public ; and are designed to promote 
our present, as well as our future happiness. 
They are plainly and explicitly published ; 
easily understood ; and in fair and legible cha- 
racters writ in every man's heart, and the wis- 
dom, reason, and necessity of them are readily 
discerned. They are urged with the most 
mighty motives that can possibly affect the 
human heart. And, if any of them are difficult, 
the most effectual grace is freely offered to en- 
courage and assist our obedience ; advantages 
which no human laws have to enforce the ob- 
servance of them. (2.) As his subjects, we 
must readily pay the homage due to his sove- 
reignty. And this is no less than the homage 
of the heart ; humbly acknowledging, that we 



58 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

hold every thing of him, and have every thing 
from him. Earthly princes are forced to be 
content with verbal acknowledgments, or mere 
formal homage ; for they can command nothing 
but what is external : but God, who knows and 
looks at the hearts of all his creatures, will 
accept of nothing but what comes from thence. 
He demands the adoration of our whole souls, 
which is most justly due to him, who formed 
them, and gave them the very capacities to 
know and adore him. (3.) As faithful subjects, 
we must cheerfully pay him the tribute he re- 
quires of us. This is not like the tribute which 
earthly kings exact; who as much depend upon 
their subjects for the support of their power, as 
their subjects do upon them for the protection 
of their property. But the tribute God requires 
of us, is a tribute of praise and honour ; which 
he stands in no need of from us. For his power 
is independent, and his glory immutable; and 
he is infinitely able, of himself, to support the 
dignity of his universal government. But it is 
the most natural duty we owe him, as creatures. 
For, to praise him, is only to show forth his 
praise ; to glorify him, to celebrate his glory ; 
and to honour him, is to render him and his 
ways honourable in the eyes and esteem of 
others. And, as this is the most natural duty 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 59 

that creatures owe to their Creator, so, it is a 
tribute he requires of every one of them, in 
proportion to their respective talents and abili- 
ties to pay it. (4.) As dutiful subjects, we must 
contentedly and quietly submit to the methods 
and administrations of his government, however 
dark, involved, or intricate. All governments 
have their arcana imperii, or secrets of state, 
which common subjects cannot penetrate. And 
therefore, they cannot competently judge of the 
wisdom or rectitude of certain public measures ; 
because they are ignorant either of the springs 
of them, or the ends of them, or the expediency 
of the means, arising from the particular situa- 
tion of things in the present juncture. And how 
much truer is this with relation to God's govern- 
ment of the world, whose wisdom is far above 
our reach, and " whose ways are not as ours ?" 
Whatever, then, may be the present aspect and 
appearance of things, as dutiful subjects, we 
are bound to acquiesce ; to ascribe wisdom and 
"righteousness to our Maker," in confidence 
that the King and " Judge of all the earth will 
do right." Again, (5.) As good subjects of God's 
kingdom, we are bound to pay a due regard and 
reverence to his ministers : especially if they 
discover an uncorrupted fidelity to his cause, 
and a pure, unaffected zeal for his honour; if 



60 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

they do not seek their own interest more than 
that of their divine Master. The ministers of 
earthly princes too often do this ; and it would 
be happy if all the ministers and ambassadors 
of the heavenly King were entirely clear of the 
imputation. It is no uncommon thing for the 
honour of an earthly monarch to be wounded 
through the sides of his ministers. The defama- 
tion and slander that are directly thrown at them, 
are obliquely intended against him : and as such 
they are taken. So, to attempt to make the min- 
isters of the gospel, in general, the objects of de- 
rision, as some do, plainly shows a mind very 
dissolute and disaffected to God, and religion 
itself; and is to act a part very unbecoming the 
dutiful subjects of his kingdom. (Lastly.) As 
good subjects, we are to do all we can to pro- 
mote the interest of his kingdom ; by defending 
the wisdom of his administrations, and endea- 
vouring to reconcile others thereunto, under all 
the darkness and difficulties that may appear in 
them, in opposition to the profane censures of 
the prosperous wicked, and the doubts and dis- 
mays of the afflicted righteous. This is to act 
in character, as loyal subjects of the King of 
heaven. And whoever forgets this part of his 
character, or acts contrary to it, shows a great 
decree of self-ignorance 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 61 

But, (2.) As the creatures of God, we are not 
only the subjects of his kingdom, but the chil- 
dren of his family. And to this relation, and 
the obligations of it, must we carefully attend, 
if we would attain the true knowledge of our- 
selves. We are his children by creation ; in 
which respect he is truly our Father. Isa. lxiv, 
8 : " But now, O Lord, thou art our Father : we 
are the clay, and thou our potter ; and we all 
are the work of thy hand." And in a more 
special sense we are his children by adoption. 
Gal. iii, 26 : " For ye are all the children of 
God by faith in Christ Jesus." And, therefore, 
(1.) We are under the highest obligations to 
love him as our Father. The love of children 
to parents is founded on gratitude, for benefits 
received, which can never be requited ; and 
ought in reason to be proportioned to those be- 
nefits ; especially if they flow from a conscien- 
tiousness of duty in the parent. And what duty 
more natural than to love our benefactors ? 
What love and gratitude then is due to Him 
from whom we have received the greatest bene- 
fit, even that of our being ; and every thing 
that contributes to the comfort of it ? (2.) As 
his children, we must honour him ; that is, 
must speak honourably of him, and for him ; 
and carefully avoid every thing that may tend 



62 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

to dishonour his holy name and ways. Mai. i, 
6 : " A son honoure'th his father : if then I be a 
father, where is mine honour?" (3.) As our 
Father, we are to apply to him for what we 
want. Whither should children go but to their 
father for protection, help, and relief, in every 
danger, difficulty, and distress 1 And, (4.) We 
must trust his power, and wisdom, and paternal 
goodness, to provide for us, take care of us, and 
do for us that which is best. And what that is 
he knows best. To be anxiously fearful what 
will become of us, and discontented and per- 
plexed under the apprehension of future evils, 
while we are in the hands, and under the care 
of our Father who is in heaven, is not to act 
like children. Earthly parents cannot avert from 
their children all the calamities they fear, be- 
cause their wisdom and power are limited ; but 
our all-wise and almighty Father in heaven can. 
They may possibly want love and tenderness 
for their offspring ; but our heavenly Father 
cannot for his. Isa. xlix, 15. (5.) As children, 
we must quietly acquiesce in his disposals, and 
not expect to see into the wisdom of all his 
will. It would be indecent and undutiful in a 
child to dispute his parents' authority, or ques- 
tion their wisdom, or neglect their orders, every 
time he could not discern the reason and design 






SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 63 

of them. Much more unreasonable and unbe- 
coming is such behaviour toward God, " who 
giveth not account of any of his matters ; whose 
judgments are unsearchable, and whose ways 
are past finding out." Job xxxiii, 13; Rom.xi,33. 
(Lastly.) As children, we must patiently submit 
to his discipline and correction. Earthly parents 
may sometimes punish their children through 
passion or caprice ; but our heavenly Father 
always corrects his for their profit, (Heb. xii, 
10,) and only if need be, (1 Peter i, 6,) and 
never so much as their iniquities deserve. Ezra 
ix, 13. Under his fatherly rebukes let us ever 
be humble and submissive. Such now is the 
true filial disposition. Such a temper and such 
a behaviour should we show toward God, if we 
would act in character as his children. 

These then are the two special relations, 
which, as creatures, we stand in to God. And 
not to act toward him in the manner before- 
mentioned, is to show that we are ignorant of, 
or have not yet duly considered, our obligations 
to him as his subjects and his children ; or 
that we are as yet ignorant both of God and 
ourselves. Thus we see how directly the 
knowledge of ourselves leads us to the know- 
ledge of God. So true is the observation of a 
late pious and very worthy divine, that " he who 



64 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

is a stranger to himself, is a stranger to God, 
and to every thing that may denominate him 
wise and happy." 

But, (2.) In order to know ourselves there 
is another important relation we should often 
think of, and that is, that in which we stand to 
Jesus Christ, our Redeemer. 

The former was common to us as men : this 
is peculiar to us as Christians ; and opens to 
us a new scene of duties and obligations, 
which a man can never forget that does not 
grossly forget himself. For, as Christians we 
are the disciples, the followers, and the servants 
of Christ, redeemed by him. 

And, 1. As the disciples of Christ, we are to 
learn of him : to take our religious sentiments 
only from his gospel, in opposition to all the 
authoritative dictates of men, who are weak and 
fallible as ourselves. " Call no man master on 
earth." While some affect to distinguish them- 
selves by party names, as the Corinthians for- 
merly did, (for which the apostle blames them,) 
one saying, " I am of Paul ;" another, " I am of 
Apollos ;" another, "I am of Cephas," (1 Cor. i, 
12,) let us remember, that we are the disciples 
of Christ, and in this sense, make mention of 
his name only. It is really injurious to it, to 
seek to distinguish ourselves by any other. 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 65 

There is more carnality in such party distinc- 
tions, denominations, and attachments, than 
many good souls are aware of; though not 
more than the apostle Paul (who was unwil- 
lingly placed at the head of one himself) hath 
apprized them of. 1 Cor. iii, 4. We are of Christ : 
our concern is, to honour that superior deno- 
mination, by living up to it ; and to adhere in- 
flexibly to his gospel, as the only rule of our 
faith, the guide of our life, and the foundation 
of our hope ; whatever contempt or abuse we 
may suffer, either from the profane or bigoted 
part of mankind, for so doing. (2.) As Chris- 
tians, we are followers of Christ ; and therefore 
bound to imitate him, and copy after that most 
excellent pattern he hath set us, " who hath left 
us an example, that we should follow his steps," 
1 Peter ii, 21 : to see that the same holy tem- 
per " be in us which was in him ;" and to dis- 
cover it in the same manner he did, and upon 
like occasions. To this he calls us. Matt, xi, 
29. And no man is any further a Christian, 
than as he is a follower of Christ ; aiming at a 
more perfect conformity to that most perfect 
example which he hath set us of universal good- 
ness. (3.) As Christians, we are the servants 
of Christ ; and the various duties which ser- 
vants owe to their masters in any degree, those 
5 



66 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

we owe to him in the highest degree ; who ex- 
pects we should behave ourselves in his service 
with that fidelity and zeal, and steady regard to 
his honour and interest, at all times, which we 
are bound to by virtue of this relation, and which 
his unmerited and unlimited goodness and love 
lay us under infinite obligations to. (Lastly.) 
We are, moreover, his redeemed servants ; and, 
as such, are under the strongest motives to love 
and trust him. 

This deserves to be more particularly con- 
sidered, because it opens to us another view 
of the human nature in which we should often 
survey ourselves, if we desire to know our- 
selves ; and that is, as depraved or degenerate 
beings. The inward contest we so sensibly 
feel, at some seasons especially, between a good 
and a bad principle, (called, in Scripture lan- 
guage, the flesh and the spirit,) of which some 
of the wisest heathens seemed not to be igno- 
rant ; this, I say, is demonstration, that some 
way or other the human nature has contracted 
an ill bias, (and how that came about, the sa- 
cred Scriptures have sufficiently informed us,) 
and that it is not what it was when it came ori- 
ginally out of the hands of its Maker ; so that 
the words which St. Paul spake, with reference 
to the Jews in particular, are justly applicable 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 67 

to the state of mankind in general, " There is 
none righteous, no, not one ; they are all gone 
out of the way, they are together become un- 
profitable, there is none that doth good, no, not 
one." 

This is a very mortifying thought, but an un- 
deniable truth, and one of the first principles of 
that science we are treating of; and very ne- 
cessary to be attended to, if we would be sen- 
sible of the duty and obligations we owe to 
Christ, as the great Redeemer, in which cha- 
racter he appears for the relief and recovery of 
mankind under this their universal depravity. 

The two miserable effects of the human apos- 
tacy are, 1. That perverse dispositions grow up 
in our minds from early infancy, that soon set- 
tle into vicious habits, which render us weak, 
and unwilling to obey the dictates of con- 
science and reason, and is commonly called the 
dominion of sin. And, 2. At the same time we 
are subject to the displeasure of God, and the 
penalty of his law ; which is commonly called 
the condemnation of sin. Now, in both these 
respects did Christ, " the Lamb of God, come 
to take away the sin of the world ;" that is, to 
take away the reigning power of it by the ope- 
ration of his grace ; and the condemning power 
of it, by the atonement of his blood ; to sanctify 



■: - - . . . _ 

us by t : y his d e 

By ilie former he reconciles us to God, and, by 
the latter, he reconciles God to us : and ■ 

Lteousness and strength. He died 

to pi -e happiness we had for- 

rnds his graiT ad spirit to il 

that happiness he hath thus purchased. So 

complete is hi adapted 

he hath provided to the malady 

acted ! " O blessed Redeems 

:hed ruined creatures, how unspeakable 

are the obligations I owe thee ! But. ah ! how 

sible am I of th: The sad- 

ptom of degeneracy I find in my na- 

ZTatitude of heart, which 

renders me so unaffected with thine astonish- 

. . compassions . Till I know thee. I cannot 

myself, may 
I ever think daily conscious- 

ness -nd guilt lead my thoughts 

to thee : and may every thought of thee kindle 
in my heart the most arden: glow of gratitude 
to thee. O thou divine, compassionate Friend, 
Lover, and Redeemer of mankind." 

• 
who professes to take the _ 
pel of C : a divine revelation, and 

:aith and practice, bi 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 69 

same time, pays a greater regard to the dictates 
of men than to the doctrine of Christ ; who 
loses sight of that great example of Christ 
which should animate his Christian walk, is 
unconcerned about his service, honour, and in- 
terest, and excludes the consideration of his 
merits and atonement from his hope and happi- 
ness : he forgets that he is a Christian ; he 
does not consider in what relation he stands to 
Christ, (which is one great part of his charac- 
ter,) and consequently discovers a great degree 
of self-ignorance. 

(3.) Self-knowledge, moreover, implies a due 
attention to the several relations in which we 
stand to our fellow-creatures, and the obligations 
that result from thence. 

If we know ourselves, we shall remember the 
condescension, benignity, and love, that is due 
to inferiors ; the affability, friendship, and kind- 
ness, we ought to show to equals ; the regard, 
deference, and honour, we owe to superiors ; 
and the candor, integrity, and benevolence, we 
owe to all. 

The particular duties requisite in these rela- 
tions are too numerous to be here mentioned. 
Let it suffice to say, that, if a man doth not well 
consider the several relations of life in which 
he stands to others, and does not take care to 



70 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

preserve the decorum and propriety of those 
relations, he may justly be charged with self- 
ignorance. 

And this is so evident in itself, and so gene- 
rally allowed, that nothing is more common 
than to say, when a person does not behave 
with due decency toward his superiors, such a 
one does not understand himself. But why 
may not this with equal justice be said of those 
who act in an ill manner toward their inferiors ? 
The expression, I know, is not so often thus 
applied ; but I see no reason why it should not ; 
since one is as common and as plain an in- 
stance of self-ignorance as the other. Nay, of 
the two, perhaps, men in general are more apt 
to be defective in their duty and behaviour to- 
ward those beneath them, than they are toward 
those that are above them ; and the reason 
seems to be, because an apprehension of the 
displeasure of their superiors, and the detrimen- 
tal consequences which may accrue from thence, 
may be a check upon them, and engage them 
to pay the just regards which they expect : but 
there being no such check to restrain them from 
violating the duties they owe to inferiors, (from 
whose displeasure they have little to fear,) they 
are more ready, under certain temptations, to 
treat them in an unbecoming maimer. And as 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 71 

wisdom and self-knowledge will direct a man 
to be particularly careful, lest he neglect those 
duties he is most apt to forget ; so, as to the 
duties he owes to inferiors, in which he is most 
in danger of transgressing, he ought more 
strongly to urge upon himself the indispensable 
obligations of religion and conscience. And if 
he does not, but suffers himself, through the 
violence of ungoverned passion, to be transport- 
ed into the excesses of rigour, tyranny, and op- 
pression, toward those whom God and nature 
have put into his power, it is certain he does 
not know himself, is not acquainted with his 
own particular weakness, is ignorant of the duty 
of his relation, and, whatever he may think of 
himself, hath not the true spirit of government, 
because he wants the art of self-government. 
For he that is unable to govern himself, can 
never be fit to govern others. 

Would we know ourselves, then, we must 
consider ourselves as creatures, as Christians, 
and as men ; and remember the obligations 
which, as such, we are under to God, to Christ, 
and our fellow-men, in the several relations in 
which we stand to them, in order to maintain the 
propriety, and fulfil the duties of those relations. 



72 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 



CHAPTER IV. 

We must duly consider the rank and station of life in which 
Providence hath placed us, and what it is that becomes aid 
adorns it. 

III. A man, " that knows himself, will de- 
liberately consider and attend to the particular 
rank and station in life in which Providence 
hath placed him ; and what is the duty and de- 
corum of that station ; what part is given him 
to act ; what character to maintain ; and with 
what decency and propriety he acts that part, 
or maintains that character." 

For a man to assume a character, or aim at 
a part, that does not belong to him, is affecta- 
tion. And whence is it, that affectation of any 
kind appears so ridiculous, and exposes men to 
universal and just contempt, but because it is a 
certain indication of self-ignorance ? Whence 
is it, that many seem so willing to be thought 
something when they are nothing, and seek to 
excel in those things in which they cannot, 
while they neglect those things in which they 
might excel ? Whence is it, that they counter- 
act the intention of nature and Providence, that 
when this intended them one thing they would 
fain be another ? Whence, I say, but from an 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 73 

isfnorance of themselves, the rank of life thev 
are in, and the part and character which pro- 
perly belong to them 1 

It is a just observation, and an excellent docu- 
ment of a moral heathen, that human life is a 
" drama, and mankind the actors, who have 
their several parts assigned them by the master 
of the theatre, who stands behind the scenes, 
and observes in what manner every one acts. 
Some have a short part allotted them, and some 
a long one ; some a low, and some a high one. 
It is not he that acts the highest or most shin- 
ing part on the stage, that comes off with the 
greatest applause ; but he that acts his part 
best, whatever it be. To take care then to act 
our respective parts in life well, is ours : but 
to choose what part in life we shall act, is not 
ours, but God's."* But a man can never act 
his part well, if he does not attend to it ; does 

* Life is a stage -play ; it matters not how long we act, so 
we act well, Sen. Non est bonum, vivere, sedbene vivere. It is 
not life, but living well, that is the blessing. Something simi 
lar to this is the epigram by Dr. Doddridge, on dum vivimus 
vivamus, which he assumed as his motto : — 

" Live while you live, the epicure would say, 
And seize the pleasures of the present day : 
Live while you live, the sacred preacher cries, 
And give to God each moment as it flies : 
Lord ! in my views let both united be : 
I live in pleasure when I live to thee " 



<4 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

not know what becomes it : much less, if he 
affect to act another, which does not belong to 
him. It is always self-ignorance that leads a 
man to act out of character. 

Is if a mean and low station in life thou art 
in ? Know then, that Providence calls thee to 
the exercise of industry, contentment, submis- 
sion, patience, hope, and humble dependance 
on him, and a respectful deference to thy su- 
periors. In this way thou mayest shine through 
thy obscurity, and render thyself amiable in 
the sight of God and man. And not only so, 
but find more satisfaction, safety, and self-en- 
joyment, than they who move in a higher 
sphere, from whence they are in danger of 
falling. 

But hath Providence called thee to act in a 
more public character, and for a more extensive 
benefit to the world ! Thy first care, then, 
ought to be, that thy example, as far as its in- 
fluence reaches, may be an encouragement to 
the practice of universal virtue. And next, to 
shine in those virtues especially which best 
adorn thy station ; as, benevolence, charity, 
wisdom, moderation, firmness, and inviolable 
integrity: with an undismayed fortitude 
press through all opposition in accomplishing 
those ends which thou hast a prospect and 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 75 

probability of attaining, for the apparent good of 
mankind. 

And as self-acquaintance will teach us what 
part in life we ought to act, so the knowledge 
of that will show us whom we ought to imitate, 
and wherein. We are not to take example of 
conduct from those who have a very different 
part assigned them from ours ; unless in those 
things that are universally ornamental and ex- 
emplary. If we do, we shall but expose our 
affectation and weakness, and ourselves to con- 
tempt for acting out of character. For what is 
decent in one may be ridiculous in another. 
Nor must we blindly follow those who move in 
the same sphere, and sustain the same character 
with ourselves ; but only in those things that are 
befitting that character ; for it is not the person, 
but the character, we are to regard ; and to imi- 
tate him no further than he keeps to that. 

This caution especially concerns youth, who 
are apt to imitate their superiors very implicitly, 
especially such as excel in that part or profes- 
sion which they themselves are aiming at : but 
for want of judgment to distinguish what is fit 
and decent, are apt to imitate their very foibles, 
which a partiality for their persons makes 
them deem as excellences ; and thereby they 
become doubly ridiculous, both by acting out of 



76 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

character themselves, and by a weak and ser- 
vile imitation of others in the very things in 
which they do so too. To maintain a charac- 
ter then with decency, we must keep our eye 
only upon that which is proper to it. 

In fine, as no man can excel in every thing, 
we must consider what part is allotted us to 
act, in the station in which Providence hath 
placed us, and keep to that, be it what it will, 
and seek to excel in that only. 



CHAPTER V. 

Every man should be well acquainted with his own talents 
and capacities ; and in what manner they are to be exercised 
and improved to the greatest advantage. 

IV. "A man cannot be said to know himself, 
till he is well acquainted with his proper 
talents and capacities ; knows for what ends he 
received them ; and how they may be most 
fitly applied and improved for those ends." 

A wise and self-understanding man, instead 
of aiming at talents he hath not, will set about 
cultivating those he hath, as the way in which 
Providence points out his proper usefulness. 

As, in order to the edification of the church, 
the Spirit of God at first conferred upon the 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 77 

ministers of it a great variety of spiritual gifts, 
1 Cor. xii, 8-10 ; so for the good of the com- 
munity, God is pleased now to confer upon 
men a great variety of natural talents. And 
" every one hath his proper gift of God, one 
after this manner, and another after that," 1 Cor. 
vii, 7. And every one is to take care "not 
to neglect, but to stir up the gift of God which 
is in him," 1 Tim. iv, 14 ; 2 Tim. i, 6. Because 
it was given him to be improved ; and not only 
the abuse, but the neglect of it must be hereafter 
accounted for. Witness the doom of that un- 
profitable servant who laid up his single pound 
in a napkin ; and of him who went and hid 
his talent in the earth. 

It is certainly a sign of great self-ignorance 
for a man to venture out of his depth, or attempt 
any thing he wants opportunity or capacity to 
accomplish. And therefore, a wise man will 
consider with himself, before he undertakes 
any thing of consequence, whether he hath 
abilities to carry him through it, and whether 
the issue of it is like to be for his credit ; lest 
he sink under the weight he lays upon himself, 
and incur the just censure of rashness, pre- 
sumption, and folly. See Luke xiv, 28-32.* 

* " He that takes up a burden that is too heavy for him, is in 
a fair way to break his back. In every business consider, 



78 ^-F-KXOWLEDGE. 

It is no uncommon tiling for some, who excel 
in one thing, to imagine they may excel in 
every thing ; and, not content with that share 
of merit which every one allows them, are still 
catching at that which does not belong to them. 
Why should a good orator affect to be a poet I 
Why must a celebrated divine set up for a poli- 
tician I or a statesman affect the philosop" - 
or a mechanic the scholar 1 or a wise man 
labour to be thought a wit I This is a weak- 
ness that flows from self-ignorance, and is in- 
cident to the greatest men. Nature seldom 
forms a universal genius, but deals out her 
favours in the present state with a parsimoni- 
ous hand. Many a man, by this foible, hath 
weakened a well-established reputation.* 

first, what it is you are about ; and then your own a". . 
whether it be sufficient to carry you through it." — Epict. 
" Examine well, ye wri *h with care 

or strength can bear ; 

For when a well-proportion "d theme you choose, 

Nor words, nor method shall their aid refuse. 

In this, or I mistake. as - the grace, 

And force of method ; I place 

For what with present judgment we should i 

And for some happier time the r ; - 

: mc&s Horace. 

- Caecilius, a famo";- S in the 

time of Augustus, and wrote a treatise on the sublime, (w\ 
is ce: - is,) was a man 

of a hasty and enter] . -hoot 






SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 79 



CHAPTER VI. 

We must be well acquainted with our inabilities, and those 
things in which we are naturally deficient, as well as those in 
which we excel. 

V. " We must, in order to a thorough self- 
acquaintance, not only consider our talents and 
proper abilities, but have an eye to our frailties 
and deficiencies, that we may know where our 
weakness as well as our strength lies." Other- 
wise, like Samson, we may run ourselves into 
infinite temptations and troubles. 

Every man hath a weak side. Every wise 
man knows where it is, and will be sure to keep 
a double guard there. 

There is some wisdom in concealing a weak- 
ness. This cannot be done, till it be first 
known ; nor can it be known without a good 
degree of self-acquaintance. 

It is strange to observe what pains some 
men are at to expose themselves ; to signalize 
their own folly ; and to set out to the most pub- 

himself on all occasions ; and particularly ventured far out of 
his depth in his comparison of Demosthenes and Cicero. 
Whereupon Plutarch made this sage and candid remark : " If," 
says he, " it were a thing obvious and easy for every man to 
know himself, possibly that saying, ' Know thyself,' had not 
passed for a divine oracle." 



80 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

lie view those things which they ought to be 
ashamed to think should ever enter into their 
character. But so it is ; some men seem to be 
ashamed of those things which should be their 
glory, while others " glory in their shame," 
Phil, iii, 19. 

The greatest weakness in a man is to publish 
his weaknesses, and to appear fond to have 
them known. But vanity will often prompt a 
man to this, who, unacquainted with the mea- 
sure of his capacities, attempts things out of 
his power, and beyond his reach, whereby he 
makes the world acquainted with two things to 
his disadvantage, which they were ignorant of 
before, namely, his deficiency and his self-ig- 
norance, in appearing so blind to it. 

It is ill-judged (though very common) to be 
less ashamed of a want of temper, than under- 
standing. For it is no real dishonour or fault in 
a man to have but a small ability of mind, pro- 
vided he hath not the vanity to set up for a 
genius, (which would be as ridiculous, as for a 
man of small strength and stature of body to set 
up for a champion,) because this is what he can- 
not help. But a man may, in a good measure, 
correct the fault of his natural temper, if he be 
well acquainted with it, and duly watchful over 
it. And, therefore, to betray a prevailing weak- 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 81 

ness of temper, or an ungoverned passion, dimi- 
nishes a man's reputation much more than to 
discover a weakness of judgment or understand- 
ing. But what is most dishonourable of all is, 
for a man at once to discover a great genius and 
an ungoverned mind ; because, that strength of 
reason and understanding he is master of, gives 
him a great advantage for the government of his 
passions ; and, therefore, his suffering himself, 
notwithstanding, to be governed by them, shows, 
that he hath too much neglected or misapplied 
his natural talent, and willingly submitted to 
the tyranny of those lusts and passions, over 
which nature had furnished him with abilities 
to have secured an easy conquest. 

A wise man hath his foibles, as well as a fool. 
But the difference between them is, that the 
foibles of the one are known to himself, and 
concealed from the world ; the foibles of the 
other are known to the world, and concealed 
from himself. The wise man sees those frail- 
ties in himself which others cannot; but the 
fool is blind to those blemishes in his character 
which are conspicuous to every body else. 
Whence it appears, that self-knowledge is that 
which makes the main difference between a 
wise man and a fool, in the moral sense of that 
word. 

6 



82 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

CHAPTER VII. 

Concerning the knowledge of our constitutional sins. 

VI. " Self-acquaintance shows a man the 
particular sins he is most exposed and addict- 
ed to ; and discovers not only what is ridicu- 
lous, but what is criminal, in his conduct and 
temper." 

The outward actions of a man are generally 
the plainest index of his inward dispositions ; 
and by the allowed sins of his life, you may 
know the reigning vices of his mind. Is he ad- 
dicted to luxury and debauch ? sensuality then 
appears to be his prevailing taste. Is he given 
to revenge and cruelty ? choler and malice, 
then, reign in his heart. Is he confident, bold, 
and enterprising? ambition appears to be the 
secret spring. Is he sly and designing, given to 
intrigue and artifice 1 you may conclude, there 
is a natural subtlety of temper that prompts him 
to this. And this secret disposition is criminal, 
in proportion to the degree in which these out- 
ward actions, which spring from it, transgress 
the bounds of reason and virtue. 

Every man hath something peculiar in the 
turn or cast of his mind, which distinguishes 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 83 

him as much as the particular constitution of 
his body. And both these, viz., his particular 
turn of mind, and particular constitution of body, 
incline and dispose him to some kind of sins 
much more than to others. And the same it is 
that renders the practice of certain virtues so 
much more easy to some than it is to others.* 
Now, those sins which men generally are most 
strongly inclined to, and the temptations which 
they find they have least power to resist, are 
usually and properly called their constitutional 

* Men, with regard to their bodies and bodily appetites, are 
pretty much alike ; but with regard to their mental tastes and 
dispositions, they are often as different, as if they were quite 
of another species ; governed by different views, entertained 
with different pleasures, animated with different hopes, and 
affected by different motives, and distinguished by differ- 
ent tempers and inclinations, as if they were not of the same 
kind. So that I am very ready to believe, that there is not a 
greater difference between an angel and some of the best and 
wisest of men, with regard to their temper and dispositions, 
than there is between some sort of men and others. And 
what inclines me to this sentiment is, considering the easy 
transition which nature always observes in passing from one 
order or kind of beings to another, together with the prodigious 
difference there appears to be between individuals of the hu- 
man species, almost in. every thing belonging to them. For 
there are some, " in whom one would think nature had placed 
every thing the wrong way ;" depraved in their opinions, un- 
intelligible in their reasoning, irregular in their actions, and 
vicious in every disposition. While in others we see almost 
every thing amiable and excellent that can adorn and exalt 
the human mind under the disadvantages of mortality 



84 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

sins ; their peculiar frailties; and, in Scripture, 
their own iniquities, (Psa. xviii, 23,) and the 
sins which " do most easily beset them," Heb. 
xii, 1. 

" As in the humours of the body, so in the 
vices of the mind, there is one predominant, 
which has an ascendant over us, and leads and 
governs us. It is in the body of sin w T hat the 
heart is in the body of our nature ; it begins to 
live first, and dies last ; and, while it lives, it 
communicates life and spirit to the whole body 
of sin ; and, when it dies, the body of sin ex- 
pires with it. It is the sin to which our con- 
stitution leads, our circumstances betray, and 
custom enslaves us ; the sin to which not our 
virtues only, but vices, too, lower their topsail, 
and submit ; the sin which, when we would 
impose upon God and our conscience, we ex- 
cuse and disguise with all imaginable artifice 
and sophistry : but, when we are sincere with 
both, we oppose first, and conquer last. It is, 
in a word, the sin which reigns and rules in 
the unregenerate, and too often alarms and 
disturbs (ah ! that I could say no more) the 
regenerate." — Lucas's Ser?nons, vol. i, p. 151. 

Some are more inclined to the sins of the flesh ; 
sensuality, intemperance, uncleanness, sloth, 
self-indulgence, and excess in animal gratifica- 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 85 

tions Others more inclined to trie sins of the 
spirit ; pride, malice, covetousness, ambition, 
wrath, revenge, envy, &c. And I am persuad- 
ed there are few, but, upon a thorough search 
into themselves, may find that some one of 
these sins hath ordinarily a greater power over 
them than the rest. Others often observe it in 
them, if they themselves do not. And for a 
man not to know his predominant iniquity is 
great self-ignorance indeed, and a sign that he 
has all his life lived far from home ; because he 
is not acquainted with that in himself, which 
every one, who is but half an hour in his com- 
pany, perhaps, may be able to inform him of. 
Hence proceeds that extreme weakness which 
some discover, in censuring others for the very 
same faults they are guilty of themselves, and, 
perhaps, in a much higher degree ; on which 
the apostle Paul animadverts, Rom. ii, 1. 

It must be owned, it is an irksome and disa- 
greeable business for a man to turn his own 
accuser ; to search after his own faults, and 
keep his eye upon that which it gives him 
shame and pain to see. It is like tearing open 
an old wound. But it is better to do this than 
to let it mortify. The wounds of the conscience, 
like those of the body, cannot be well cured till 
they are searched to the bottom ; and they can- 



86 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

not be searched without pain. A man that is 
engaged in the study of himself must be con- 
tent to know the worst of himself. 

Do not, therefore, shut your eyes against your 
darling sin, or be averse to find it out. Why 
should you study to conceal or excuse it, and 
fondly cherish that viper in your bosom ? " Some 
men deal by their sins, as some ladies do by 
their persons. When their beauty is decayed, 
they seek to hide it from themselves by false 
glasses, and from others by paint. So, many 
seek to hide their sins from themselves by false 
glosses, and from others by excuses, or false 
colours." — Baxter. But the greatest cheat 
they put upon themselves. " They that cover 
their sins shall not prosper," Prov. xxviii, 13. 
It is dangerous self-flattery to give soft and 
smoothing names to sins, in order to disguise 
their nature. Rather lay your hand upon your 
heart, and thrust it into your bosom, though it 
come out (as Moses's did) leprous as snow. 
Exod. iv, 6.* 

* " The knowledge of sin is the first step toward amend- 
ment : for he that does not know he hath offended, is not will- 
ing to be reproved. You must therefore find out yourself 
before you can amend yourself. Some glory in their vices. 
And do you imagine they have any thoughts about reforming 
who place their very vices in the room of virtues ? There- 
fore reprove thyself: search thyself very narrowly. First 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 87 

And to find out our most beloved sin, let us 
consider what are those worldly objects or 
amusements which give us the highest delight : 
this, it is probable, will lead us directly to some 
one of our darling iniquities, if it be a sin of 
commission ; and what are those duties which 
we read or hear of, from the word of God, to 
which we find ourselves most disinclined : and 
this, in all likelihood, will help us to detect 
some of our peculiar sins of omission, which, 
without such previous examination, we may not 
be sensible of. And thus may we make a pro- 
ficiency in one considerable branch of self- 
knowledge.* 

turn accuser to thyself, then a judge, and then a suppliant. 
And dare for once to displease thyself." — Se?ieca. 

* " It is a good argument of a reformed mind, that it 
sees those vices in itself which it was before ignorant of." — 
Seneca. 

A man's predominant sin usually arises out of his predomi- 
nant passion ; which, therefore, he should diligently observe. 
The nature and force of which is beautifully described by a 
great master of English verse : — 

11 On different senses different objects strike. 
Hence different passions more or less inflame, 
As strong or weak, the organs of the frame ; 
And hence one master-passion in the breast, 
Like Aaron's serpent, swallows up the rest. 
Nature its mother, habit is its nurse ; 
Wit, spirit, faculties, but make it worse ; 



88 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

The knowledge of our most dangerous temptations necessary 
to self-knowledge. 

VII. " A man, that rightly knows himself, 
is acquainted with his peculiar temptations ; 
and knows when, and in what circumstances, 
he is in the greatest danger of transgressing." 

Reader, if ever you would know yourself, 
you must examine this point thoroughly. And, 
if you have never yet done it, make a pause 
when you have read this chapter, and do it 
now. Consider in what company you are most 
apt to lose the possession and government of 
yourself ; on what occasions you are apt to be 
most vain and unguarded, most warm and pre- 
cipitant. Flee that company, avoid those occa- 
sions, if you would keep your conscience clear. 
What is it that robs you most of your time and 
your temper ? If you have a due regard to the 
improvement of the one, and the preservation 

Reason itself but gives it edge and power, 

As heaven's blest beam turns vinegar more sour. 

Ah ! if she lend not arms as well as rules, 

What can she more than tell us we are fools ? 

Teach us to mourn our nature, not to mend, 

A sharp accuser, but a helpless friend !" — Pope. 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 89 

of the other, you will regret such a loss, and 
shun the occasions of it, as carefully as you 
would a road beset with robbers. 

But especially must you attend to the occa- 
sions which most usually betray you into your 
favourite vices ; and consider the spring from 
whence they arise, and the circumstances 
which most favour them. They arise, doubtless, 
from your natural temper, which strongly dis- 
poses and inclines you to them. That temper, 
then, or particular turn of desire, must be care- 
fully watched over as a most dangerous quarter. 
And the opportunities and circumstances which 
favour those inclinations must be resolutely 
avoided, as the strongest temptations. For the 
way to subdue a criminal inclination is, first, to 
avoid the known occasions that excite it, and 
then to curb the first motions of it. And thus, 
Having no opportunity of being indulged, it will, 
of itself, in time, lose its force, and fail of its 
wonted victory. 

The surest way to conquer, is sometimes to 
decline a battle ; to weary out the enemy by 
keeping him at bay. Fabius Maximus did not 
use this stratagem more successfully against 
Hannibal, than a Christian may against his pe- 
culiar vice, if he be but watchful of his advan- 
tages. It is dangerous to provoke an unequal 



90 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

enemy to the fight, or to run into such a situa- 
tion where we cannot expect to escape without 
a disadvantageous encounter. 

It is of unspeakable importance, in order to 
self-knowledge and self-government, to be ac- 
quainted with all the accesses and avenues to 
sin, and to observe which way it is that we are 
oftenest led to it ; and to set reason and con- 
science to guard those passes, those usual inlets 
to vice, which, if a man once enters, he will 
find a retreat extremely difficult. 

" Watchfulness, w T hich is always necessary, 
is chiefly so when the first assaults are made ; 
for then the enemy is most easily repulsed, if 
we never suffer him to get within us, but, upon 
the very first approach, draw up our forces, 
and fight him without the gate. And this will 
be more manifest, if we observe by what me- 
thods and degrees temptations grow upon us. 
The first thing that presents itself to the mind 
is a plain, single thought ; this, straight, is im- 
proved into a strong imagination ; that, again, 
enforced by a sensible delight ; then follow 
evil motions ; and, when these are once stirred, 
there wants nothing but the assent of the will, 
and then the work is finished. Now, the first 
steps of this are seldom thought worth our care, 
sometimes not taken notice of; so that the 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 91 

enemy is frequently got close up to us, and 
even within our trenches, before we observe 
him." — Thomas a Kempis, p. 22. 

As men have their particular sins, which do 
most easily beset them, so they have their par- 
ticular temptations, which do most easily over- 
come them. That may be a very great tempta- 
tion to one, which is none at all to another. 
And if a man does not know what are his 
greatest temptations, he must have been a great 
stranger, indeed, to the business of self-em- 
ployment. 

As the subtle enemy of mankind takes care 
to draw men gradually into sin, so he usually 
draws them, by degrees, into temptation. As he 
disguises the sin, so he conceals the temptation 
to it ; well knowing, that, were they but once 
sensible of their danger of sin, they would be 
ready to be upon their guard against it. Would 
we know ourselves thoroughly, then, we must 
get acquainted, not only with our most usual 
temptations, that we be not unawares drawn 
into sin, but with the previous steps, and pre- 
paratory circumstances, which make way for 
those temptations, that we be not drawn una- 
wares into the occasions of sin ; for those things 
which lead us into temptations, are to be con- 
sidered as temptations, as well as those which 



92 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

immediately lead us into sin. And a man that 
knows himself will be aware of his remote 
temptations, as well as the more immediate 
ones ; for example, if he find the company of a 
passionate man is a temptation, (as Solomon 
tells us it is, Prov. xxii, 24, 25,) he will not only 
avoid it, but those occasions that may lead him 
into it. And the petition, in the Lord's prayer, 
makes it as much a man's duty to be upon his 
guard against temptation, as under it. Nor can 
a man pray from his heart, that God would not 
lead him into temptation, if he take no care 
himself to avoid it. 



CHAPTER IX. 

Self-knowledge discovers the secret prejudices of the heart. 

VIII. Another important branch of self- 
knowledge is, for a man to be acquainted with 
his own prejudices, or those secret preposses- 
sions of his heart, which, though so deep and 
latent that he may not be sensible of them, are 
often so strong and prevalent, as to give a 
mighty, but imperceptible, bias to the mind. 

And in this the great art of self-knowledge 
consists, more than in any one thing again. It 
being, therefore, a matter of such mighty con- 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 93 

sequence, and, at the same time, a point to 
which men, in general, are too inattentive, it 
deserves a more particular discussion. 

These prejudices of the human mind may be 
considered with regard to opinions, persons, 
and things. 

(1.) With regard to opinions. 

It is a common observation, but well ex- 
pressed by a late celebrated writer, " that 
we set out in life with such poor beginnings 
of knowledge, and grow up under such re- 
mains of superstition and ignorance, such 
influences of company and fashion, such insi- 
nuations of pleasures, &c, that it is no wonder 
if men get habits of thinking only in one way ; 
that these habits, in time, grow rigid and con- 
firmed ; and so their minds come to be overcast 
with thick prejudices, scarce penetrable by any 
rav of truth, or light of reason." — See Religion 
of Nature delineated, p. 129. 

There is no man but is more fond of one par- 
ticular set or scheme of opinions in philosophy, 
politics, and religion, than he is of another, if he 
hath employed his thoughts at all about them. 
The question we should examine, then, is, How 
come we by these attachments ? whence are 
we so fond of those particular notions ? did 
we come fairly by them ? or, were they im- 



94 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

posed upon us, and dictated to our easy be- 
lief, before we were able to judge of them ? 
This is most likely. For the impressions we 
early receive, generally grow up with us, and 
are those we least care to part with. However, 
which way soever we came by them, they must 
be re-examined, and brought to the touch-stone 
of sound sense, solid reason, and plain Scrip- 
ture. If they will not bear this, after hard 
rubbing, they must be discarded as no genuine 
principles of truth, but only counterfeits of it. 

And, as reason and Scripture must discover 
our prejudices to us, so they only can help us 
to get rid of them. By these are we to rectify, 
and to these are we to conform all our opinions 
and sentiments in religion, as our only standard, 
exclusive of all other rules, light, or authority 
whatsoever. 

And care must further be taken, that we do 
not make Scripture and reason bend and buckle 
to our notions, which will rather confirm our 
prejudices than cure them. For, whatever can- 
not evidently be made out, without the help of 
overstrained metaphors, and the arts of sophis- 
try, is much to be suspected ; which used to 
make Archbishop Tillotson say, Non amo argu- 
tias in tkeologia, "I do not love subtleties in 
divinity." But, 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 95 

(2.) The human mind is very apt to be pre- 
judiced, either for or against certain persons, 
as well as certain sentiments. And, as preju- 
dice will lead a man to talk very unreasonably 
with regard to the latter, so it will lead him 
to act very unreasonably with regard to the 
former. 

What is the reason, for instance, that we 
cannot help having a more hearty affection for 
some persons than others ? Is it from a simi- 
larity of taste and temper ? or something in 
their address, that flatters our vanity ? or some- 
thing in their humour, that hits our fancy ? or 
something in their conversation, that improves 
our understanding ? or a certain sweetness of 
disposition, and agreeableness of manner, that 
is naturally engaging? or from benefits received 
or expected from them ? or from some eminent 
and distinguished excellence in them ? or from 
none of these, but something else, we cannot 
tell what ? Such sort of inquiries will show us, 
whether our esteem and affections be rightly 
placed, or flow from mere instinct, blind preju- 
dice, or something worse. 

And so, on the other hand, with regard to our 
disaffection toward any one, or the disgust we 
have taken against him ; if we would know our- 
selves we must examine into the bottom of this, 



96 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

and see, not only what is the pretended, but true 
cause of it ; whether it be a justifiable one. and 
our resentments duly proportioned to it. Is his 
manner of thinking, talking, and acting, quite 
different from mine, and therefore what I can- 
not approve ? or have I received some real 
affront or injury from him? Be it so; my con- 
tinued resentment against him, on either of these 
accounts, may be owing, notwithstanding, more 
to some unreasonable prejudice in me, than any 
real fault in him. 

For, as to the former, his way of thinking, 
talking, and acting may possibly be juster than 
my own ; which the mere force of custom and 
habit only makes me prefer to his. However, 
be his ever so wrong, he may not have had the 
same advantage of improving his understanding, 
address, and conduct, as I have had ; and there- 
fore his defects herein are more excusable. And 
he may have many other kind of excellences, 
which I have not. " But he is not only igno- 
rant and unmannered, but insufferably vain, 
conceited, and overbearing at the same time." 
Why, that, perhaps, he cannot help ; it is the 
fault of his nature. He is the object of pity, 
rather than resentment. And had I such a tem- 
per by nature, I should, perhaps, with all my 
self-improvement, find it a difficult thing to ma- 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 97 

nage : and therefore, though I can never choose 
such a one for an agreeable companion, yet I 
ought not to harbour a dislike to him, but love, 
and pity, and pray for him, as a person under a 
great misfortune, and be thankful that I am not 
under the same. " But he is quite blind to this 
fault of his temper, and does not appear to be 
in the least sensible of it." Why, that is a 
greater misfortune still, and he ought to be the 
more pitied. 

And as to the other pretended ground of pre- 
judice, " He hath often offended and injured 
me," let me consider, 1. Whether any offence 
was really intended ; whether I do not impute 
that to ill nature, which was only owing to ill 
manners ; or that to design, which proceeded 
only from ignorance. Do I not take offence 
before it is given ? If so, the fault is mine, and 
not his : and the resentment I have conceived 
against him, I ought to turn upon myself.* 
Again, 2. Did I not provoke him to it, when I 
knew his temper? The fault is still my own. 
I did, or might know, the pride, passion, or 
perverseness of his nature ; why, then, did 1 

* " For eveiy trifle scorn to take offence ; 

That always shows great pride, or little sense. 
Good nature and good sense must alwa3^s join ; 
To err is human, to forgive divine." — Pope. 

7 



98 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

exasperate him ? A man that will needlessly 
rouse a lion, must not expect always to come 
off so favourably as the hero of La Mancha. 
But, 3. Suppose I were not the aggressor, yet, 
how came I into his company? who led me 
into the temptation ? He hath acted according to 
his nature in what he hath done ; but I have not 
acted according to my reason, in laying my self so 
open to him. I knew him ; why did I not shun 
him, as I would any other dangerous animal, 
that does mischief by instinct ! If I must needs 
put my finger into a wasps' nest, why should I 
blame them for stinging me ? Or, 4. If I could 
not avoid his company, why did I not arm my- 
self ? Why did I venture, defenceless, into so 
much danger? Or, 5. Suppose he hath done 
me a real and undeserved injury, without my 
fault or provocation, yet, does not my present 
discontent greatly aggravate it ? Does it not 
appear greater to me than it does to any body 
else ? or than it will to me, after the present 
ferment is over ? And, lastly, after all, must I 
never forgive ? How shall I be able to repeat 
the Lord's prayer, or read our Saviour's com- 
ment upon it, (Matt, vi, 14, 15,) with an un- 
forgiving temper ? Do I not hope to be for- 
given ten thousand talents ? and cannot I for- 
give my fellow-servant thirty pence, when I 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 99 

know not but he hath repented, and God hath 
forgiven him, whose forgiveness I want in- 
finitely more than my greatest enemy does 
mine.* 

Such considerations are of great use to soften 
our prejudices against persons ; and at once to 
discover the true spring, and prevent the bad 
effects of them. And happy would it be for a 
Christian, could he but call to mind, and apply 
to his relief, half the good things which that 
excellent heathen emperor and philosopher, 

* A man despises me : what then ? Did he know me more, 
he would perhaps despise me more. But I know myself bet- 
ter than he can know me ; and therefore despise myself more. 
And though his contempt, in this instance, may be groundless, 
yet in others it would be but too well founded. I will there- 
fore not only bear with, but forgive it. 

It has been reckoned a wise and witty answer which one 
of the philosophers returned to his friend, who advised him 
to revenge an injury that had been done him : " What !" says 
he, "if an ass kicks me, must I needs kick him again ?" And, 
perhaps, there is more wit than wisdom in that reply. It 
seems, indeed, to earn- in it something of a true greatness of 
mind ; but does it not at the same time discover a kind of 
haughty and contemptuous spirit ? The truth is, as a judicious 
writer observes, " It is at best but a lame and misshapen cha- 
rity ; it has more of pride than goodne>> Wi should learn 
of the holy Jesus, who was not only meek, but lowly. We 
should contemn the injury, and pity the weakness ; but should 
not disdain or despise the persons of our enemies. Charity 
vaunteth not herself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself 
unseemly." — See ScougaVs Duty of Loving our Enemies. 



100 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

Marcus Antoninus, could say upon this sub- 
ject ; some of which I have, for the benefit of 
the English reader, extracted, and thrown into 
the margin.* 

(3.) The mind is apt to be prejudiced against 

* " In the morning remember to say to thyself, This day, per- 
haps, I may meet with some impertinent, ungrateful, peevish, 
tricking, envious, churlish fellow. Now all these ill qualities 
proceed from an ignorance of good and evil. And since I am 
so happy as to understand the natural beauty of a good action, 
and the deformity of an ill one ; and since the person that dis- 
obliges me is of near kin to me ; and though not just of the 
same blood and family, yet of the same divine extract as to 
his mind ; and, finally, since I am convinced that no one can 
do me a real injury, because he cannot force me to do a dis- 
honest thing ; for these reasons I cannot find in my heart to 
hate him, or so much as to be angry with him." — Marc. Anton. 
Medit., b. 2, $ 1. 

" You are just taking leave of the world, and have you not 
yet learned to be friends with every body ? And that to be an 
honest man, is the only way to be a wise one." — Ibid., b. 4, § 37. 

" To expect an impossibility is madness ; now it is impos- 
sible for ill men not to do ill things." — Ibid., b. 5, <J 17. 

" A man misbehaves himself toward me ; what is that to me ? 
Let him look to that, for the action is his, and he acts accord- 
ing to his own disposition. As for me, I am in the condition 
Providence would have me, and am doing what becomes 
me." — Ibid., b. 4, § 25. 

"It is the privilege of human nature above brutes to love 
those that offend us. In order to this consider, (1.) That the 
offending party is of kin to you. (2.) That he acts thus, be- 
cause he knows no better. (3.) He may have no design to 
offend you. (4.) You will both of you quickly be in your 
graves. But above all, (5.) You have received no harm 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 101 

or in favour of certain things and actions, as 
well as certain sentiments and persons. 

If, therefore, you find in yourself a secret 

from him ; for your mind or reason is the same as before." — 
Ibid., b. 7, § 22. 

" Think upon your last hour, and do not trouble yourself 
about other people's faults, but leave them there where they 
must be answered for." — Ibid., b. 7, § 29. 

11 Do not return the temper of ill-natured people upon them- 
selves, nor treat them as they do the rest of mankind." — 
Ibid., b. 7, $ 55. 

" Though the gods are immortal, yet they not only patiently 
bear with a wicked world through so man}- ages, but what is 
more, liberally provide for it : and are you, who are just going 
off the stage, weary with bearing, though you are one of those 
unhappy mortals yourself?" — Ibid., b. 7, § 70. 

"Never disturb yourself ; for men will do the same unto- 
ward actions over again, though you burst with spleen." — 
Ibid., b. 8, $ 4. 

" Reform an injurious person if you can : if not, remember 
your patience was given you to bear with him ; that the gods 
patiently bear with such men, and sometimes bestow upon 
them health, and fame, and fortune."— Ibid., b. 9, § 11. 

" When people treat you ill, and show their spite and slan- 
der you, enter into their little souls, go to the bottom of them, 
search their understandings ; and you will soon see, that no- 
thing they may think or say of you need give 3'ou one trouble- 
some thought."— Ibid., b. 9, § 27. 

" That is the best thing for a man which God sends him ; and 
that is the best time when he sends it." — Ibid., b. 9, § 27. 

" It is sometimes a hard matter to be certain, whether you 
have received ill usage or not ; for men's actions oftentimes 
look worse than they are : and one must be thoroughly inform- 
ed of a great many things, before he can rightly judge." — 
Ibid., b.U, $ 18. 



102 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

disinclination to any particular action or duty 
and the mind begins to cast about for excuses 
and reasons to justify the neglect of it, consider 
the matter well ; go to the bottom of that re- 
luctance, and search out what it is that gives 
the mind this aversion to it ; whether it be the 
thing or action itself, or some discouraging cir- 
cumstances that may attend it, or some dis- 
agreeable consequences that may possibly flow 
from it, or your supposed unfitness for it at pre- 
sent. Why, all these things may be only im- 
aginary. And to neglect a plain and positive 
duty, upon such considerations, shows that you 
are governed by appearances more than reali- 
ties, by fancy more than reason, and by incli- 
nation more than conscience. 

" Consider how much more you often suffer from your anger 
and grief, than those very things for which you are angry and 
grieved."— Ibid., b. 11, § 18. 

" When 3^ou fancy any one hath transgressed, say thus to 
yourself: ' How do I know it is a fault ? But admit it is, it 
may be his conscience hath corrected him ; and then he hath 
received his punishment from himself.' " — Ibid., b. 12, <j> 16. 

To these I shall add two more quotations, out of the sacred 
writings, of incomparably greater weight and dignity than any 
of the fore-mentioned. Prov. xix, 11 : " The discretion of a 
man deferreth his anger : and it is his glory to pass over a 
transgression." Rom. xii, 20, 21 : " If thine enemy hunger, 
feed him : if he thrst, give him drink : for in so doing, thou 
shalt heap coals of fire on his head. Be not overcome of 
evil, but overcome evil with good." 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 103 

But let fancy muster up all the discouraging 
circumstances, and set them in the most formi- 
dable light, to bar your way to a supposed duty ; 
for instance, "It is very difficult, I want capa- 
city, at least I am so indisposed to it at present, 
that I shall make nothing of it ; and then it 
will be attended with danger to my person, re- 
putation, or peace ; and the opposition I am 
like to meet with is great," &c. But, after all, 
is the call of Providence clear ? is the thing a 
plain duty, such as reason, conscience, and 
Scripture, your office, character, or personal 
engagement, call upon you to discharge ? If 
so, all the aforesaid objections are vain and de- 
lusive ; and you have nothing to do but to sum- 
mon your courage, and, in dependance on divine 
help, to set about the business immediately, and 
in good earnest, and in the best and wisest 
manner you can ; and, you may depend upon 
it, you will find the greatest difficulty to lie 
only in the first attempt ; these frightful ap- 
pearances to be all visionary, the mere figments 
of fancy, turning lambs into lions, and mole- 
hills into mountains ; and that nothing but sloth, 
folly, and self-indulgence, thus set your imagi- 
nation on work, to deter you from a plain 
duty. Your heart would deceive you ; but you 



104 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

have found out the cheat, and do not be im- 
posed upon.* 

Again, suppose the thing done ; consider how- 
it will look then. Take a view of it as past ; 
and, whatever pains it may cost you, think 
whether it will not be abundantly recompensed 
by the inward peace and pleasure which arise 
from a consciousness of having acted right. It 
certainly will. And the difficulties you now 
dread will enhance your future satisfaction. But 
think again how you will bear the reflections 
of your own mind, if you wilfully neglect a plain 
and necessary duty ; whether this will not oc- 
casion you much more trouble than all the pains 
you might be at in performing it. And a wise 
man will always determine himself by the end, 
or by such a retrospective view of things, con- 
sidered as past. 

Again, on the other hand, if you find a strong 
propension to any particular action, examine 
that with the like impartiality. Perhaps, it is 
what neither your reason nor conscience can 
fully approve ; and yet every motive to it is 
strongly urged, and every objection against it 

* " The wise and prudent conquer difficulties 
By daring to attempt them. Sloth and folly 
Shiver and shrink at sight of toil and danger, 
And make th' impossibility they fear." — Rowe, 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 105 

slighted. Sense and appetite grow importu- 
nate and clamorous, and want to lead, while 
reason remonstrates in vain. But turn not aside 
from that faithful and friendly monitor, while, 
with a low still voice, she addresses you in 
this soft but earnest language : " Hear me, I 
beseech you, but this one word more. The ac- 
tion is indeed out of character ; what I shall 
never approve. The pleasure of it is a great 
deal overrated ; you will certainly be disap- 
pointed. It is a false appearance that now de- 
ceives you. And what will you think of your- 
self when it is past, and you come to reflect 
seriously on the matter? Believe it, you will 
then wish you had taken me for your counsel- 
lor, instead of those enemies of mine, your lusts 
and passions, which have so often misled you, 
though, you know, I never did." 

Such short recollections as these, and a little 
leisure to take a view of the nature and conse- 
quences of things or actions, before we rejector 
approve them, will prevent much false judgment 
and bad conduct, and, by degrees, wear off the 
prejudices which fancy has fixed in the mind, 
either for or against any particular action ; 
teach us to distinguish between things and 
their appearances ; strip them of those false 
colours that so often deceive us ; correct the 



106 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

sallies of the imagination, and leave the reins 
in the hand of reason. 

Before I dismiss this head, I must observe, 
that some of our strongest prejudices arise from 
an excessive self-esteem, or too great value for 
our own good sense and understanding. Phi- 
lautus, in every thing, shows himself very well 
satisfied with his own wisdom, which makes him 
very impatient of contradiction, and gives him a 
distaste to all who shall presume to oppose their 
judgment to his in any thing. He had rather 
persevere in a mistake than retract it, lest his 
judgment should suffer, not considering that his 
ingenuity and good sense suffer much more by 
such obstinacy. The fulness of his self-suffi- 
ciency makes him blind to those imperfections 
which every one can see in him but himself. 
So that, however wise, sincere, and friendly, 
however gentle and seasonable your remon- 
strance may be, he takes it immediately to pro- 
ceed from ill-nature or ignorance in you, but 
from no fault in him. 

Seneca, I remember, tells us a remarkable 
story, which very well illustrates this matter. 
Writing to his friend Lucilius, "My wife," says 
he, " keeps Harpastes in her house still, who, 
you know, is a sort of family fool, and an in- 
cumbrance upon us. For my part, I am far 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 107 

from taking any pleasure in such prodigies. 
If I have a mind to divert myself with a fool, 
1 have not far to go for one ; I can laugh at 
myself. This silly girl, all on a sudden, lost 
her eye-sight ; and (which, perhaps, may seem 
incredible, but it is very true) she does not 
know she is blind, but is every now and then 
desiring her governess to lead her abroad, say- 
ing, the house is dark. Now. what we laugh at 
in this poor creature, we may observe, happens 
to us all. No man knows that he is covetous 
or insatiable. Yet, with this difference, the 
blind seek somebody to lead them, but we are 
content to wander without a guide. But why 
do we thus deceive ourselves ? The disease 
is not without us, but fixed deep within. And 
therefore is the cure so difficult, because we do 
not know that we are sick.'** 

* Sen. Epist. 51. 

" The reflection calculated above all others to alia}' that tem- 
per [referred to in the former part of this chapter] which is 
ever finding out provocations, and which renders anger so 
impetuous, is, that we ourselves are, or shortly shall be sup- 
pliants for mercy and pardon at the judgment seat of God ; 
casting ourselves on his compassion ; crying out for mercy : 
imagine such a creature to talk of satisfaction and revenge ; 
refusing to be entreated ; disdaining to forgive ; extreme to 
mark and to resent what is done amiss : imagine this, and you 
can hardly bring to yourself an instance of more impious and 
unnatural arrogance." — Paley, Mor. Phil. 



108 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

CHAPTER X. 

The necessity and means of knowing our natural tempers. 

IX. " Another very important branch of self- 
knowledge is, the knowledge of those govern- 
ing passions or dispositions of the mind which 
generally form what we call a man's natural 
temper." 

The difference of natural tempers seems to be 
chiefly owing to the different degrees of influ- 
ence the several passions have upon the mind : 
for example, if the passions are eager, and soon 
raised, we say, the man is of a warm temper ; if 
more sluggish, and slowly raised, he is of a cool 
temper; according as anger, malice, or ambition, 
prevail, he is of a fierce, churlish, or haughty 
temper ; the influence of the softer passions of 
love, pity, and benevolence, forms a sweet, 
sympathizing, and courteous temper ; and where 
all the passions are duly poised, and the milder 
and pleasing ones prevail, they make what is 
commonly called, a quiet, good-natured man. 

So that, it is the prevalence or predominance 
of any particular passion, which gives the turn 
or tincture to a man's temper, by which he is 
distinguished, and for which he is loved and 
esteemed, or shunned and despised, by others. 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. ] 09 

Now, what this is, those we converse with 
are soon sensible of. They presently see 
through us, and know the fault of our temper, 
and order their behaviour to us accordingly. 
If they are wise and well-mannered, they will 
avoid touching the string, which, they know, 
will jar and raise a discord within us. If they 
are our enemies, they will do it on purpose to 
set us on tormenting ourselves. And our friends 
we must suffer sometimes, with a gentle hand, 
to touch it, either by way of pleasant raillery, 
or faithful advice. 

But a man must be greatly unacquainted with 
himself, if he is ignorant of his predominant 
passion, or distinguishing temper, when every 
one else observes it. And yet, how common 
is this piece of self-ignorance ! The two apos- 
tles, Peter and John, discovered it in that very 
action wherein they meant to express nothing 
but a hearty zeal for their Master's honour; 
which made him tell them, that they knew not 
what manner of spirit they were of," Luke ix, 
55 ; that is, that, instead of a principle of love 
and genuine zeal for Him, they were, at that 
time, governed by a spirit of pride, revenge, 
and cruelty. And that the apostle John should 
be liable to this censure, whose temper seemed 
to be all love and sweetness, is a memorable 



110 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

instance how difficult a thing it is for a man at 
all times to know his own spirit ; and that that 
passion, which seems to have the least power 
over his mind, may, on some occasions, insen- 
sibly gain a criminal ascendant there. 

And the necessity of a perfect knowledge 
of our reigning passions appears further from 
hence ; because they not only give a tincture 
to the temper, but to the understanding also, 
and throw a strong bias on the judgment. They 
have much the same effect upon the eye of the 
mind, as some distempers have upon the eyes 
of the body ; if they do not put it out, they 
weaken it, or throw false colours before it, and 
make it form a wrong judgment of things : and, 
in short, are the source of those fore-mentioned 
prejudices, which so often abuse the human 
understanding. 

Whatever the different passions themselves 
that reign in the mind may be owing to ; 
whether to the different texture of the bodily 
organs, or the different quality or motion of the 
animal spirits, or to the native turn and cast of 
the soul itself; yet certain it is, that men's dif- 
ferent ways of thinking are much according to 
the predominance of their different passions, and 
especially with regard to religion. . Thus, for ex- 
ample, we see melancholy people are apt to throw 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. Ill 

too much gloom upon their religion, and repre- 
sent it in a very uninviting and unlovely view, 
as all austerity and mortification; while they, 
who are governed by the more gay and cheer- 
ful passions, are apt to run into the other ex- 
treme, and too much to mingle the pleasures of" 
sense with those of religion ; and are as much 
too lax as the other too severe. And so, by the 
prejudice or bias of their respective passions, 
or the force of their natural temper, are led into 
the mistake on both sides. 

" So that, would a man know himself, he 
must study his natural temper, his constitutional 
inclinations and favourite passions ; for, by 
these, a man's judgment is easily perverted, and 
a wrong bias hung upon his mind : these are 
the inlets of prejudice, the unguarded avenues 
of the mind, by which a thousand errors and 
secret faults find admission, without being ob 
served or taken notice of." — Spectator, vol. vi ; 
No. 899. 

And, that we may more easily come at the 
knowledge of our predominant affections, let us 
consider what outward events do most impress 
and move us, and in what manner ? What is it 
that usually creates the greatest pain or plea- 
sure in the mind ? As for pain, a stoic, indeed, 
may tell us, "that we must keep things at a 



112 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

distance ; let nothing that is outward come 
within us ; let externals be externals still." 
But the human make will scarce bear the rigour 
of that philosophy. Outward things, after all, 
will impress and affect us. And there is no 
harm in this, provided they do not get the pos- 
session of us, overset our reason, or lead us to 
act unbecoming a man or a Christian. And one 
advantage we may reap from hence is, the 
manner or degree in which outward things im- 
press us, may lead us into a more perfect know- 
ledge of ourselves, and discover to us our weak 
side, and the particular passions which have 
most power over us. 

Our pleasures will likewise discover our 
reigning passions, and the true temper and dis- 
position of the soul. If it be captivated by the 
pleasures of sin, it is a sign its prevailing taste 
is very vicious and corrupt ; if with the plea- 
sures of sense, very low and sordid ; if imagi- 
nary pleasures, and the painted scenes of fancy 
and romance, do most entertain it, the soul hath 
then a trifling turn ; if the pleasures of science, 
or intellectual improvements, are those it is most 
fond of, it has then a noble and refined taste ; 
but, if the pleasures of religion and divine con- 
templation do, above all others, delight and en- 
tertain it, it has then its true and proper taste ; 



SELF-KX0W LEDGE. 113 

its temper is, as it should be, pure, divine, and 
heavenly, provided these pleasures spring from 
a true religious principle, free from that super- 
stition, bigotry, and enthusiam, under which it 
is often disguised. 

And thus, by carefully observing what it is 
that gives the mind the greatest pain and tor- 
ment, or the greatest pleasure and entertain- 
ment, we come at the knowledge of its reigning 
passions, and prevailing temper and disposition. 

" Include thyself, then, O my soul, within 
the compass of thine own heart ; if it be not 
large, it is deep ; and thou wilt there find exer- 
cise enough. Thou wilt never be able to sound 
it ; it cannot be known but by Him who tries 
the thoughts and reins. But dive into this sub- 
ject as deep as thou canst. Examine thyself; 
and this knowledge of that which passes within 
thee will be of more use to thee than the 
knowledge of all that passes in the world. 
Concern not thyself with the wars and quarrels 
of public or private persons. Take cogni- 
zance of those contests which are between thy 
flesh and thy spirit : between the law of thy 
members, and that of thy understanding. Ap- 
pease those differences. Teach thy flesh to be 
in subjection. Replace reason on its throne ; 
and give it piety for its counsellor. Tame thy 
8 



114 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

passions, and bring them under bondage. Put 
thy little state in good order ; govern wisely 
and holily those numerous people which are 
contained in so little a kingdom ; that is to say, 
that multitude of affections, thoughts, opinions, 
and passions, which are in thine heart." — Ju- 
rievfs Method of Christian Devotion, part iii, 
chap. 3. 



CHAPTER XL 

Concerning the secret springs of our actions. 

X. "Another considerable branch of self- 
acquaintance is, the knowledge of the true mo- 
tives and secret springs of our actions. " 

And this sometimes cannot, without much 
pains, be acquired. But, for want of it, we 
shall be in danger of passing a false judgment 
upon our actions, and of having a wrong opinion 
of several parts of our conduct. 

It is not only very possible, but very common, 
for men to be ignorant of the chief inducements 
of their behaviour ; and to imagine they act 
from one motive, while they are apparently 
governed by another. If we examine our 
views, and look into our hearts narrowly, we 
shall find that they more frequently deceive us 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 115 

in this respect than we are aware of, by per- 
suading us, that we are governed by much bet- 
ter motives than we are. The honour of God, 
and the interest of religion, may be the open 
and avowed motive, while secular interest and 
secret vanity may be the hidden and true one. 
While we think we are serving God, we may 
be only sacrificing to mammon. We may, like 
Jehu, boast our zeal for the Lord, when we are 
only animated by the heat of our natural pas- 
sions ; may cover a censorious spirit under a 
cloak of piety ; and giving admonitions to others, 
may be only giving vent to our spleen. 

How many come to the place of public wor- 
ship out of custom or curiosity, who would be 
thought to come thither only out of conscience ? 
And while their external and professed view is 
to serve God, and gain good to their souls, their 
secret and inward motive is only to show them- 
selves to advantage, or to avoid singularity, and 
prevent others making observations on their 
absence. Munificence and almsgiving may 
often proceed from a principle of pride and 
party spirit, when it may appear to be the effect 
of pure piety and charity ; and seeming acts of 
friendship, from a motive of selfishness. 

By thus disguising our motives, we may im- 
pose upon men, but, at the same time, we im 



116 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

pose upon ourselves ; and, while we are deceiv- 
ing others, our own hearts deceive us. And, 
of all impostures, self-deception is the most 
dangerous, because least suspected. 

Now, unless we examine this point narrowly, 
we shall never come to the bottom of it ; and 
unless we come at the true spring and real 
motive of our actions, we shall never be able 
to form a right judgment of them ; and they 
may appear very different in our own eye, and 
in the eye of the world, from what they do in 
the eye of God. "For the Lord seeth not as 
man seeth: for man looketh on the outward 
appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart," 
1 Sam. xvi, 7. And hence it is, that "that 
which is highly esteemed among men, is often- 
times abomination in the sight of God," Luke 
xvi, 15. " Every way of man is right in his 
own eyes ; but the Lord pondereth the heart," 
Prov. xxi, 2. 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 117 



CHAPTER XII. 

Every one that knows himself, is, in a particular manner, 
sensible how far he is governed by a thirst for applause. 

XL " Another thing necessary to unfold a 
man's heart to himself, is to consider what is 
his appetite for fame, and by what means he 
seeks to gratify that particular passion." 

This passion, in particular, having always so 
main a stroke, and oftentimes so unsuspected 
an influence on the most important parts of our 
conduct, a perfect acquaintance with it is a 
very material branch of self-knowledge, and 
therefore requires a distinct and particular con- 
sideration. 

Emulation, like the other passions of the hu- 
man mind, shows itself much more plainly, and 
works much more strongly, in some, than it 
does in others. It is, in itself, innocent, and 
was planted in our natures for very wise ends, 
and is capable of serving very excellent pur- 
poses, if kept under proper restrictions and re- 
gulations. But, without these, it degenerates 
into a mean and criminal ambition. 

When a man finds something within him that 
pushes him on to excel in worthy deeds, or in 



118 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

actions truly good and virtuous, and pursues 
that design with a steady unaffected ardour, 
without reserve or falsehood, it is a true sign 
of a noble spirit : for that love of praise can 
never be criminal that excites and enables a 
man to do a great deal more good than he could 
do without it. And perhaps there never was a 
fine genius, or a noble spirit, that rose above 
the common level, and distinguished itself by 
high attainments in what was truly excellent, 
but was secretly, and perhaps insensibly, 
prompted by the impulse of this passion. 

But, on the contrary, if a man's views centre 
only in the applause of others, whether it be 
deserved or not ; if he pants after popularity and 
fame, not regarding how he comes by them ; 
if his passion for praise urge him to stretch 
himself beyond the line of his capacity, and to 
attempt things to which he is unequal ; to con- 
descend to mean arts and low dissimulation, 
for the sake of a name ; and in a sinister, indi- 
rect way, sue hard for a little incense, not 
caring from whom he receives it; it then dege- 
nerates into what is properly called vanity. 
And if it excites a man to wicked attempts, and 
makes him willing to sacrifice the esteem of 
all wise and good men, to the shouts of the 
giddy multitude ; if his ambition overleaps the 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 119 

bounds of decency and truth, and breaks through 
obligations of honour and virtue ; it is then not 
only vanity, but vice ; a vice the most destruct- 
ive to the peace and happiness of human soci- 
ety, and which, of all others, hath made the 
greatest havoc and devastation among men. 

What an instance have we here of the wide 
difference between common opinion and truth ! 
That a vice, so big with mischief and misery, 
should be mistaken for a virtue ! and that they, 
who have been most infamous for it, should be 
crowned with laurels, even by those who have 
been ruined by it, and have those laurels per- 
petuated by the common consent of men through 
after ages ! Seneca's judgment of Alexander is 
certainly more agreeable to truth than the com- 
mon opinion ; who called him " a public cut- 
throat, rather than a hero ; and who, in seek- 
ing only to be a terror to mankind, arose to no 
greater an excellence than what belonged to 
the most hurtful and hateful animals on earth."* 

Certain it is, that these false heroes are, of 

* How different from this is the judgment of Plutarch in 
this matter ? who, in his oration concerning the fortune and 
virtue of Alexander, exalts him into a true hero ; and justifies 
all the waste he made of mankind under (the same colour 
with which the Spaniards excused their inhuman barbarities 
toward the poor Indians, viz.) a pretence of civilizing them. 
And in attributing all his success to his virtue, he talks more 



120 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

all men, most ignorant of themselves, who seek 
their gain and glory from the destruction of 
their own species ; and, by this wicked ambi- 
tion, entail infamy and curses upon their name 
and family, instead of that immortal glory they 
pursued, and imagined they had attained. Ac- 
cording to the prophet's words, " Wo to him 
who coveteth an evil covetousness to his house, 
that he may set his nest on high ; that he may 
be delivered from the power of evil. Thou hast 
consulted shame to thine house, by cutting off 
many people ; and hast sinned against thy 
soul."* Hab. ii, 9, 10. 

Now, no man can truly know himself, till he 
be acquainted with this, which is so often the 
secret and unperceived spring of his actions, 

like a soldier serving under him in his wars, than a historian 
who lived many years afterward, whose business it was to 
transmit his character impartially to future ages. And in what- 
ever other respects Mr. Dryden may give the preference to 
Plutarch before Seneca, (which he does with much zeal in 
his Preface to Plutarch's Lives,) yet it must be allowed that, 
in this instance, at least, the latter shows more of the philoso- 
pher. — See Plut. Mor., vol. i, ad sin. 

* " O sons of earth ! attempt ye still to rise, 

By mountains piled on mountains, to the skies ? 
Heaven still with laughter the vain toil surveys, 
And buries madmen in the heaps they raise. 
Who wickedly is wise, or madly brave, 
Is but the more a fool, or more a knave." 

Pope's Essay on Man. 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 121 

and observes how far it governs and influences 
him in his conversation and conduct. 

And, to correct the irregularity and extrava- 
gance of this passion, let us but reflect how 
airy and unsubstantial a pleasure the highest 
gratifications of it afford ; how many cruel mor- 
tifications it exposes us to, by awakening the 
envy of others ; to what meanness it often 
makes us submit ; how frequently it loseth its 
end, by pursuing it with too much ardour ; (for 
virtue and real excellence will rise to the view 
of the world, though they be not mounted on the 
wings of ambition, which, by soaring too high, 
procures but a more fatal fall :) and how much 
more solid pleasure the approbation of con- 
science will yield, than the acclamations of 
ignorant and mistaken men. who, judging by 
externals only, cannot know our true character, 
and whose commendations a wise man would 
rather despise than court. " Examine but the 
size of peopled sense, and the condition of their 
understanding, and you will never be fond of 
popularity, nor afraid of censure ; nor solicitous 
what judgment they may form of you, who know 
not how to judge rightly of themselves." — Mara. 
A?iton., lib. ix, § 18. 



122 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 



CHAPTER XIII. 



What kind of knowledge we are already furnished with, and 
what degree of esteem we set upon it. 

XII. " A man can never rightly know himself, 
unless he examine into his knowledge of other 
things." 

We must consider, then, the knowledge we 
have; and whether we do not set too high a 
price upon it, and too great a value upon our- 
selves on the account of it ; of what real use 
it is to us, and what effect it hath upon us ; 
whether it does not make us too stiff, unsocia- 
ble, and assuming ; testy and supercilious, and 
ready to despise others for their supposed igno- 
rance. If so, our knowledge, be it what it will, 
does us more harm than good. We were better 
without it; ignorance itself would not render us 
so ridiculous. Such a temper, with all our 
knowledge, shows that we know not ourselves. 

" A man is certainly proud of that knowledge 
he despises others for the want of." 

How common is it for some men to be fond 
of appearing to know more than they do, and 
of seeming to be thought men of knowledge t 
To which end, they exhaust their fund almost 
in all companies, to outshine the rest; so that, 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 123 

in two or three conversations, they are drawn 
dry, and you see to the bottom of them much 
sooner than you could at first imagine. And 
even that torrent of learning, which they pour 
upon you at first so unmercifully, rather con- 
founds than satisfies you. Their visible aim 
is, not to inform your judgment, but display 
their own. You have many things to query 
and except against, but their loquacity gives 
you no room ; and their good sense, set off to 
so much advantage, strikes a modest man dumb. 
If you insist upon your right to examine, they 
retreat either in confusion or equivocation ; and, 
like the scuttle-fish, throw a large quantity of 
ink behind them, that you may not see where 
to pursue. Whence this foible flows is obvious 
enough. Self-knowledge would soon correct it. 

But, as some ignorantly affect to be more 
knowing than they are, so others vainly affect 
to be more ignorant than they are ; who, to show 
they have greater insight and penetration than 
other men, insist upon the absolute uncertainty 
of science ; will dispute even first principles ; 
grant nothing as certain, and so run into down- 
right Pyrrhonism ; the too common effect of 
abstracted debates excessively refined. 

Every one is apt to set the greatest value upon 
that kind of knowledge in which he imagines he 



124 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

himself most excels, and to undervalue all other 
kinds of knowledge, in comparison of it. There 
wants some certain rule, then, by which every 
man's knowledge is to be tried, and the value of 
it estimated. And let it be this : " That is the 
best and most valuable kind of knowledge that is 
most subservient to the best ends, that is, which 
tends to make a man wiser and better, or 
more agreeable and useful both to himself and 
others." For knowledge is but a means that 
relates to some end. And as all means are to 
be judged of by the excellence of their ends, 
and their expediency to produce them ; so, that 
must be the best knowledge that hath the direct- 
est tendency to promote the best ends, namely, 
a man's own true happiness, and that of others ; 
in which the glory of God, the ultimate end, is 
ever necessarily comprised. 

Now, if we were to judge of the several kinds 
of science by this rule, we should find, 1. Some 
of them to be very hurtful and pernicious ; as 
tending to pervert the true end of knowledge ; 
to ruin a man's own happiness, and make him 
more injurious to society. Such is the know- 
ledge of vice, the various temptations to it, and 
the secret ways of practising it ; especially the 
arts of dissimulation, fraud, and dishonesty. 
2. Others will be found unprofitable and useless 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE 125 

as those parts of knowledge, which, though 
they may take up much time and pains to 
acquire, yet answer no valuable purpose ; and 
serve only for amusement, and the entertain- 
ment of the imagination : for instance, an ac- 
quaintance with plays, novels, games, and 
modes, in which a man may be very critical 
and expert, and yet not a whit the wiser or 
more useful man. 3. Other kinds of knowledge 
are good only relatively, or conditionally, and 
may be more useful to one than another ; namely, 
a skill in a man's particular occupation or 
calling, on which his credit, livelihood, or use- 
fulness in the world depends. And, as this 
kind of knowledge is valuable in proportion to 
its end, so it ought to be cultivated with a dili- 
gence and esteem answerable to that. Lastly. 
Other kinds of knowledge are good, absolutely 
and universally ; namely, the knowledge of God 
and ourselves, the nature of our final happiness, 
and the way to it. This is equally necessary 
to all. And how thankful should we be, that 
we, who live under the light of the gospel, and 
enjoy that light in its perfection and purity, 
have so many happy means and opportunities 
of attaining this most useful and necessary kind 
of knowledge. 

A man can never understand himself, then, 



126 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

till he makes a right estimate of his knowledge ; 
till he examines what kind of knowledge he 
values himself most upon, and most diligently 
cultivates ; how high a value he sets upon it ; 
what good it does him ; what effect it hath upon 
him ; what he is the better for it ; what end it 
answers now ; or what is like to answer here- 
after. 

There is nothing in which a man's self-igno- 
rance discovers itself more, than in the esteem 
he hath for his understanding, or for himself on 
account of it. It is a trite and true observation, 
"that empty things make the most sound." 
Men of the least knowledge are most apt to 
make a show of it, and to value themselves up- 
on it ; which is very visible in forward confi- 
dent youth, raw conceited academics, and those 
who, uneducated in youth, betake themselves 
in later life to reading, without taste or judg- 
ment, only as an accomplishment, and to make 
a show of scholarship ; who have just learning- 
enough to spoil company, and render themselves 
ridiculous, but not enough to make either them- 
selves or others at all the wiser. 

But, besides the fore-mentioned kinds of 
knowledge, there is another, which is commonly 
called false knowledge ; which, though it often 
imposes upon men under the show and sem- 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 127 

blance of true knowledge, is really worse than 
ignorance. Some men have learned a great 
many things, and have taken a great deal of 
pains to learn them, and stand very high in 
their own opinion on account of them, which 
yet they must unlearn before they are truly 
wise. They have been at a vast expense of 
time, and pains, and patience, to heap together, 
and to confirm themselves in a set of wrong 
notions, which they lay up in their minds as a 
fund of valuable knowledge ; which, if they try 
by the fore-mentioned rule, namely, " the ten- 
dency they have to make them wiser and bet- 
ter, or more useful and beneficial to others," 
will be found to be worth just nothing at all. 

Beware of this false knowledge ; for, as 
there is nothing of which men are more obsti- 
nately tenacious, so there is nothing that ren- 
ders them more vain, or more averse to self- 
knowledge. Of all things, men are most fond 
of their wrong notions. 

The apostle Paul often speaks of these men, 
and their self-sufficiency, in very poignant 
terms ; who, " though they seem wise, yet," 
says he, " must become fools before they are 
wise," 1 Cor. iii, 18: though they think they 
know a great deal, " know nothing yet as they 
ought to know," 1 Cor. viii, 2 : but " deceive 



128 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

themselves, by thinking themselves something 
when they are nothing," Gal. vi, 3 : and, while 
they " desire to be teachers of others, under- 
stand not what they say, nor whereof they 
affirm," 1 Tim. i, 7 : and "want themselves to 
be taught what are the first rudiments and 
principles of wisdom," Heb. v, 12. 



CHAPTER XIY. 

Concerning the knowledge, guard, and government of 
our thoughts. 

XIII. " Another part of self-knowledge 
consists in a due acquaintance with our own 
thoughts, and the workings of the imagination." 

The right government of the thoughts requires 
no small art, vigilance, and resolution ; but it is 
a matter of such vast importance to the peace 
and improvement of the mind, that it is worth 
while to be at some pains about it. A man that 
hath so numerous and turbulent a family to 
govern as his own thoughts, which are so apt 
to be under the influence and command of his 
passions and appetites, ought not to be long 
from home : if he is, they will soon grow mu- 
tinous and disorderly under the conduct of those 
two headstrong guides, and raise great clamours 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 129 

and disturbances, and sometimes on the slight- 
est occasions ; and a more dreadful scene of 
misery can hardly be imagined than that which 
is occasioned by such a tumult and uproar 
within, when a raging conscience, or inflamed 
passions, are let loose without check or con- 
trol. A city in flames, or the mutiny of a 
drunken crew aboard, who have murdered the 
captain, and are butchering one another, are 
but faint emblems of it. The torment of the 
mind, under such an insurrection and merciless 
ravage of the passions, is not easy to be con- 
ceived. The most revengeful man cannot wish 
his enemy a greater. 

Of what vast importance, then, is it for a man 
to watch over his thoughts, in order to a right 
government of them ; to consider what kind of 
thoughts find the easiest admission ; in what 
manner they insinuate themselves, and upon 
what occasions ? 

It was an excellent rule which a wise hea- 
then prescribed to himself in his private medi- 
tations : " Manage," saith he, " all your actions 
and thoughts in such a manner, as if you were 
just going out of the world." — Marc. Anton. 
Med., lib. ii, § 11. Again, saith he, "A man is 
seldom, if ever, unhappy for not knowing the 
thoughts of others ; but he that does not attend 



130 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

to the motions of his own, is certainly misera- 
ble." — Marc. Anton., lib. ii, § 8 * 

It may be worth our while, then, here to 
discuss this matter a little more particularly ; 
and consider, 1. What kind of thoughts are to 
be excluded or rejected ; and, 2. What ought 
to be indulged and entertained in the heart. 

1. Some thoughts ought to be immediately 
banished as soon as they have found entrance ; 
and, if we are often troubled with them, the 
safest way will be to keep a good guard on the 
avenues of the mind by which they enter, and 
avoid those occasions which commonly excite 
them. For, sometimes, it is much easier to 
prevent a bad thought entering the mind, than 
to get rid of it when it is entered. More par- 
ticularly, 

(1.) Watch against all fretful and discon- 
tented thoughts, which do but chafe and wound 
the mind to no purpose. To harbour these, is 
to do yourself more injury than it is in the 

* " Nothing can be more unhappy than that man who 
ranges everywhere, ransacks every thing, digs into the bowels 
of the earth, dives into other men's bosoms, but does not con- 
sider all the while that his own mind will afford him sufficient 
scope for inquiry and entertainment, and that the care and 
improvement of himself will give him business enough. 

" Your disposition will be suitable to that which you most 
frequently think on ; for the soul is, as it were, tingeoVwith 
the colour and complexion of its own thoughts." — Marc. Anton. 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 131 

power of your greatest enemy to do you. It is 
equally a Christian's interest and duty to " learn, 
in whatever state he is, therewith to be con- 
tent," Phil, iv, 11. 

(2.) Harbour not too anxious and apprehen- 
sive thoughts. By giving way to tormenting 
fears, suspicions of some approaching danger 
or troublesome event, some not only anticipate, 
but double the evil they fear ; and undergo 
much more from the apprehension of it before 
it comes, than by suffering it when it is come. 
This is a great, but common, weakness, which a 
man should endeavour to arm himself against, by 
such kind of reflections as these : "Are not all 
these events under the certain direction of a wise 
Providence 1 If they befall me, they are then 
that share of suffering which God hath appoint- 
ed me, and which he expects I should bear as 
a Christian. How often hath my too timorous 
heart magnified former trials, which I found to 
be less in reality than they appeared in their 
approach ? x\nd perhaps the formidable aspect 
they put on is only a stratagem of the great 
enemy of my best interest, designed on purpose 
to divert me from some point of duty, or to 
draw me into some sin, to avoid them. How- 
ever, why should I torment myself to no pur- 
pose ? The pain and affliction the dreaded evil 



132 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

will give me, when it comes, is of God's send- 
ing ; the pain I feel in the apprehension of it, 
before it comes, is of my own procuring : 
whereby I often make my sufferings more than 
double ; for this overplus of them, which I bring 
upon myself, is often greater than that measure 
of them which the hand of Providence imme- 
diately brings upon me." 

(3.) Dismiss, as soon as may be, all angry 
and wrathful thoughts. These will but canker 
and corrode the mind, and dispose it to the 
worst temper in the world, namely, that of fixed 
malice and revenge. "Anger may steal intc 
the heart of a wise man, but it rests only in the 
bosom of fools," Eccles. vii, 9. Make all the 
most candid allowances for the offender ; con- 
sider his natural temper ; turn your anger into 
pity ; repeat 1 Cor. xiii ; think of the patience 
and meekness of Christ, and the petition in the 
Lord's prayer ; and how much you stand in 
need of forgiveness yourself, both from God 
and man ; how fruitless, how foolish, is in- 
dulged resentment; how tormenting to yourself. 
You have too much good nature willingly to 
give others so much torment ; and why should 
you give it yourself? You are commanded to 
love your neighbour as yourself, but not forbid- 
den to love yourself as much. And why should 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 133 

you do yourself that injury which your enemy 
would be glad to do you ?* Especially, 

(4.) Banish all malignant and revengeful 
thoughts. A spirit of revenge is the very spirit 
of the devil ; than which, nothing makes a man 
more like him, and nothing can be more oppo- 
site to the temper which Christianity was de- 
signed to promote. If your revenge be not 
satisfied, it will give you torment now; if it be, 
it will give you greater hereafter. None is a 
greater self-tormentor than a malicious and re- 
vengeful man, who turns the poison of his own 
temper in upon himself 

(5.) Drive from the mind all silly, trifling, 
and unseasonable thoughts ; which sometimes 
get into it we know not how, and seize and 
possess it before we are aware, and hold it in 
empty idle amusements, that yield it neither 
pleasure nor profit, and turn to no manner of 
account in the world, only consume time, and 
prevent a better employment of the mind. And, 
indeed, there is little difference, whether we 

* The Christian precept in this case is, " Let not the sun 
go down upon your wrath," Eph. iv, 26. And this precept 
Plutarch tells us the .Pythagoreans practised in a literal 
sense : " Who, if at anytime in a passion they broke out into 
opprobrious language, before sunset gave one another their 
hands, and with them a discharge from all injuries ; and so 
with a mutual reconciliation parted friends." 



134 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

spend the time in sleep, or in these waking 
dreams. Nay, if the thoughts which thus in- 
sensibly steal upon you be not altogether ab- 
surd and whimsical, yet, if they be impertinent 
and unseasonable, they ought to be dismissed, 
because they keep out better company. 

(6.) Cast out all wild and extravagant thoughts, 
all vain and fantastical imaginations. Suffer 
not your thoughts to roam upon things that 
never were, and perhaps never will be ; to give 
you a visionary pleasure in the prospect of 
what you have not the least reason to hope, or 
a needless pain in the apprehension of what 
you have not the least reason to fear. The 
truth is, next to a clear conscience, and a sound 
judgment, there is not a greater blessing than 
a regular and well-governed imagination ; to be 
able to view things as they are, in their true 
light and proper colours ; and to distinguish 
the false images that are painted on the fancy 
from the representations of truth and reason. 
For, how common a thing is it for men, before 
they are aware, to confound reason and fancy, 
truth and imagination, together? to take the 
flashes of the animal spirits for the light of evi- 
dence ; and think they believe things to be true 
or false, when they only fancy them to be so, 
because they would have them so? not consi- 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 135 

dering that mere fancy is only the ignis fatuus 
of the mind : which often appears brightest when 
the mind is most covered with darkness, and 
will be sure to lead them astray who follow it 
as their guide. Near akin to these are, 

(7.) Romantic and chimerical thoughts. By 
which I mean that kind of wild-fire which the 
briskness of the, animal spirits sometimes sud- 
denly flashes upon the mind, and excites images 
that are so extremely ridiculous and absurd, 
that one can scarce forbear wondering how 
they could get admittance. These random flights 
of fancy are soon gone ; and so differ from that 
castle-building of the imagination before-men- 
tioned, which is a more settled amusement. 
But these are too incoherent and senseless to 
be of long continuance ; and are the -maddest 
sallies, and the most ramping reveries of the 
fancy that can be. I know not whether my 
reader understands now what I mean ; but if 
he attentively regards all that passes through 
his mind, perhaps he may, hereafter, by expe- 
rience. 

(8.) Repel all impure and lascivious thoughts, 
which taint and pollute the mind ; and though 
hid from men, are known to God, in whose eye 
they are abominable. Our Saviour warns us 
against these, as a kind of spiritual fornication, 



136 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

(Matt, v, 28,) and inconsistent with that purity 
of heart which his gospel requires. 

(9.) Take care how you too much indulge 
gloomy and melancholy thoughts. Some are 
disposed to see every thing in the worst light. 
A black cloud hangs hovering over their minds, 
which, when it falls in showers through the 
eyes, is dispersed, and all within is serene 
again. This is often purely mechanical ; and 
owing, either to some fault in the bodily con- 
stitution, or some accidental disorder in the 
animal frame. However, one that consults the 
peace of his own mind, will be upon his guard 
against this, which so often robs him of it. 

(10.) On the other hand, let not the imagina- 
tion be too sprightly and triumphant. Some are 
as unreasonably exalted as others are depress- 
ed ; and the same person, at different times, 
often runs into both extremes, according to the 
different temper and flow of the animal spirits. 
And therefore the thoughts which so eagerly 
crowd into the mind at such times ought to be 
suspected and well guarded, otherwise they will 
impose upon our judgments, and lead us to form 
such a notion of ourselves, and of things, which 
we shall soon see fit to alter, when the mind is 
in a more settled and sedate frame. 

Before we let our thoughts judge of things, 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 137 

we must set reason to judge our thoughts ; for 
they are not always in a proper condition to 
execute that office. We do not believe the 
character which a man gives us of another, 
unless we have a good opinion of his own ; so, 
neither should we believe the verdict which 
the mind pronounces, till we first examine, 
whether it be impartial and unbiased ; whether 
it be in a proper temper to judge, and have 
proper lights to judge by. The want of this 
previous act of self-judgment is ;he cause of so 
much self-deception and false judgment. 

Lastly, with abhorrence reject immediately 
all profane and blasphemous thoughts, which 
are sometimes suddenly injected into the mind, 
we know not how, though we may give a 
pretty good guess from whence. And all those 
thoughts, which are apparently temptations and 
inducements to sin, our Lord hath, by his exam- 
ple, taught us to treat in this manner. Matt, iv, ] 0. 

These, then, are the thoughts we should 
carefully guard against. And as they will 
(especially some of them) be frequently insinu- 
ating themselves into the heart, remember to set 
reason at the door of it to guard the passage, 
and bar their entrance, or drive them out forth- 
with when entered ; not only as impertinent. 
but mischievous intruders. 



138 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

But, II. There are other kinds of thoughts 
which we ought to indulge, and with great care 
and diligence retain and improve. 

Whatever thoughts give the mind a rational 
or religious pleasure, and tend to improve the 
heart and understanding, are to be favoured, 
often recalled, and carefully cultivated. Nor 
should we dismiss them till they have made 
some impressions on the mind which are like 
to abide there. 

And to bring the mind into a habit of recover- 
ing, retaining, and improving such thoughts, 
two things are necessary. 

1. To habituate ourselves to a close and 
rational way of thinking. And, 2. To moral 
reflections and religious contemplations. 

(1). To prepare and dispose the mind for the 
entertainment of good and useful thoughts, we 
must take care to habituate it to a close and 
rational way of thinking. 

When you have started a good thought, pur- 
sue it ; do not presently lose sight of it, or suffer 
any trifling suggestion that may intervene to 
divert you from it. Dismiss it not till you have 
sifted and exhausted it, and well considered 
the several consequences and inferences that 
result from it. However, retain not the subject 
any longer than you find your thoughts run 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 139 

freely upon it ; for, to confine them to it when 
it is quite worn out, is to give them an unnatural 
bent, without sufficient employment ; which will 
make them flag, or be more apt to run off to 
something else. 

And, to keep the mind intent on the subject 
you think of, you must be at some pains to recall 
and refix your desultory and rambling thoughts. 
Lay open the subject in as many lights and 
views as it is capable of being represented in; 
clothe your best ideas in pertinent and well- 
chosen words, deliberately pronounced ; or 
commit them to writing. 

Whatever be the subject, admit of no infer- 
ences from it, but what you see plain and na- 
tural. This is the way to furnish the mind 
with true and solid knowledge, as, on the con- 
trary, false knowledge proceeds from not un- 
derstanding the subject, or drawing inferences 
from it which are forced and unnatural, and 
allowing to those precarious inferences, or con- 
sequences drawn from them, the same degree 
of credibility as to the most rational and best- 
established principles. 

Beware of a superficial, slight, or confused 
view of things. Go to the bottom of them, and 
examine the foundation ; and be satisfied with 
none but clear and distinct ideas (when they can 



140 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

be had) in every thing you read, hear, or think 
of. For, resting in imperfect and obscure ideas, 
is the source of much confusion and mistake. 

Accustom yourself to speak naturally, perti- 
nently, and rationally on all subjects, and you 
will soon learn to think so on the best ; espe- 
cially if you often converse with those persons 
that speak, and those authors that write, in that 
manner. 

And such a regulation and right management 
of your thoughts and rational powers will be of 
great and general advantage to you, in the pur- 
suit of useful knowledge, and a good guard 
against the levities and frantic sallies of the 
imagination. Nor will you be sensible of any 
disadvantage attending it, excepting one, namely, 
its making you more sensible of the weakness 
and ignorance of others, who are often talking 
in a random, inconsequential manner ; and 
whom, however, it may oftentimes be more 
prudent to bear with than contradict. But the 
vast benefit this method will be of in tracing 
out truth, and detecting error, and the satisfac- 
tion it will give you in the cool and regular ex- 
ercises of self-employment, and in the retain- 
ing, pursuing, and improving good and useful 
thoughts, will more than compensate that petty 
disadvantage. 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 141 

(2.) If we would have the mind furnished 
and entertained with good thoughts, we must 
inure it to moral and religious subjects. 

It is certain the mind cannot be more nobly 
or usefully employed than in such kind of con- 
templations : because the knowledge it thereby 
acquires is, of all other, the most excellent 
knowledge, and that both in regard to its object 
and its end ; the object of it being God, and the 
end of it eternal happiness. 

The great end of religion is, to " make us 
like God, and conduct us to the enjoyment of 
him." And whatever hath not this plain ten- 
dency, and especially if it have the contrary, 
men may call religion, if they please ; but they 
cannot call it more out of its name, And what- 
ever is called religious knowledge, if it does 
not direct us in the way to this end, is not reli- 
gious knowledge, but something else, falsely so 
called. And some are unhappily accustomed 
to such an abuse of words and understanding, 
as not only to call, but to think, those things 
religion, which are the very reverse of it ; and 
those notions religious knowledge, which lead 
them the furthest from it. 

The sincerity of a true religious principle 
cannot be better known, than by the readiness 
with which the thoughts advert to God, and the 



142 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

pleasure with which they are employed in de- 
vout exercises. And though a person may not 
always be so well pleased with hearing religi- 
ous things talked of by others, whose different 
taste, sentiments, or manner of expression, 
may have something disagreeable ; yet, if he 
have no inclination to think of them himself, or 
converse with himself about them, he hath great 
reason to suspect that his " heart is not right 
with God." But, if he frequently and delight- 
fully exercises his mind in divine contempla- 
tions, it will not only be a good mark of his 
sincerity, but will habitually dispose it for the 
reception of the best and most useful thoughts, 
and fit it for the noblest entertainments. 

Upon the whole, then, it is of as great im- 
portance for a man to take heed what thoughts 
he entertains, as what company he keeps ; for 
they have the same effect upon the mind. Bad 
thoughts are as infectious as bad company ; and 
good thoughts solace, instruct, and entertain the 
mind, like good company. And this is one 
great advantage of retirement ; that a man may 
choose what company he pleases, from within 
himself. 

As, in the world, we oftener light into bad 
company than good ; so, in solitude, we are of- 
tener troubled with impertinent and unprofita- 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. i43 

ble thoughts, than entertained with agreeable 
and useful ones. And a man that hath so far 
lost the command of himself, as to lie at the 
mercy of every foolish or vexing thought, is 
much in the same situation as a host, whose 
house is open to all comers, whom, though ever 
so noisy, rude, and troublesome, he cannot get 
rid of : but with this difference, that the latter 
hath some recompense for his trouble, the for- 
mer none at all, but is robbed of his peace and 
quiet for nothing. 

Of such vast importance to the peace, as 
well as the improvement of the mind, is the 
right regulation of the thoughts, which will be 
my apology for dwelling so long on this branch 
of the subject, which I shall conclude with this 
one observation more ; that it is a very danger- 
ous ihing to think, as too many are apt to do, 
that it is a matter of indifference what thoughts 
they entertain in their hearts, since the reason 
of things concurs with the testimony of the 
Holy Scriptures to assure us, " that the allow- 
ed thought of foolishness is sin," Prov. xxvi, 9. 



144 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

CHAPTER XV. 

Concerning the memory. 

XIV. " A man that knows himself will 
have a regard, not only to the management of 
his thoughts, but the improvement of his me- 
mory." 

The memory is that faculty of the soul which 
was designed for the storehouse or repository 
of its most useful notions ; where they may be 
laid up in safety, to be produced on proper 
occasions. 

Now, a thorough self-acquaintance cannot be 
had without a proper regard to this in two re- 
spects : (1.) Its furniture. (2.) Its improvement. 

(1.) A man that knows himself w T ill have a 
regard to the furniture of his memory; not to 
load it with trash and lumber, a set of useless 
notions, or low conceits, which he will be 
ashamed to produce before persons of taste and 
judgment. 

If the retention be bad, do not crowd it. It 
is of as ill consequence to overload a weak 
memory as a w r eak stomach. And, that it may 
not be cumbered with trash, take heed what 
company you keep, w 7 hat books you read, and 
what thoughts you favour ; otherwise a great 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 145 

deal of useless rubbish may fix there before you 
are aware, and take up the room which ought 
to be possessed by better notions. But let not 
a valuable thought slip from you, though you 
pursue it with much time and pains before you 
overtake it. The regaining and refixing it 
may be of more avail to you than many hours, 
reading. 

What pity is it that men should take such 
immense pains, as some do, to learn those 
things, which, as soon as they become wise, 
they must take as much pains to unlearn ! A 
thought that should make us very curious and 
cautious about the proper furniture of our minds. 

(2.) Self-knowledge will acquaint a man with 
the extent and capacity of his memory, and the 
right way to improve it. 

There is no small art in improving a weak 
memory, so as to turn it to as great an advantage 
as many do theirs, which are much stronger. A 
few short rules to this purpose may be no un- 
profitable digression. 

1. Beware of all kinds of intemperance in 
the indulgence of the appetites and passions. 
Excesses of all kinds do a great injury to the 
memory. 

2. If it be weak, do not overload it. Charge 
it only with the most useful and solid notions. 

10 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 



A small vessel should not be stuffed with lum- 
ber : but if its freight be precious, and judi- 
ciously stowed, it may be more valuable than a 
ship of twice its burden. 

3. Recur to the help of a common-place 
book, according to Mr. Locke's method, and 
review it once a year. But take care, that, by 
confiding to your minutes or memorial aids, you 
do not excuse the labour of the memory ; which 
is one disadvantage attending this method. 

4. Take every opportunity of uttering your 
best thoughts in conversation, when the subject 
will admit it : that will deeply imprint them. 
Hence, the tales which common story-tellers 
relate, they never forget, though ever so silly. 

5. Join, to the idea you would remember, 
some other that is more familiar to you, which 
bears some similitude to it, either in its nature 
or in the sound of the word by which it is ex- 
pressed ; or that hath some relation to it, either 
in time or place. And then by recalling this, 
which is easily remembered, you will (by that 
concatenation or connection of ideas, which 
Mr. Locke takes notice of) draw in that which 
is thus linked or joined with it ; which other- 
wise you might hunt after in vain. This rule 
is of excellent use to help you to remember 
names. 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 147 

6. What you are determined to remember, 
think of before you go to sleep at night, and 
the first thing in the morning, when the facul- 
ties are fresh. And recollect, at evening, every 
thing worth remembering the day past. 

7. Think it not enough to furnish this store- 
house of the mind with good thoughts ; but lay 
them up there in order, digested or ranged un- 
der proper subjects or classes ; that, whatever 
subject you have occasion to think or talk upon, 
you may have recourse immediately to a good 
thought, which you heretofore laid up there un- 
der that subject, so that the very mention of the 
subject may bring the thought to hand ; by 
which means you will carry a regular common- 
place book in your memory. And it may not 
be amiss, sometimes, to take an inventory of 
this mental furniture, and recollect how many 
good thoughts you have there treasured up 
under such particular subjects, and whence you 
had them. 

Lastly. Nothing helps the memory more than 
often thinking, writing, or talking, on those sub- 
jects you would remember. But enough of this. 



148 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Concerning the mental taste. 

XV. "A man that knows himself is sensi- 
ble of, and attentive to, the particular taste of 
his mind, especially in matters of religion." 

As the late Mr. Howe judiciously observes, 
" there is, besides bare understanding and judg- 
ment, and diverse from that heavenly gift, 
which, in the Scripture, is called grace, such a 
thing as gust and relish belonging to the mind 
of man, (and, I doubt not, with all men, if they 
observe themselves,) and which are as unac- 
countable, and as various, as the relishes and 
disgusts of sense. This they only wonder at 
who understand not themselves, or will con- 
sider nobody but themselves. So that it can- 
not be said universally, that it is a better judg- 
ment, or more grace, that determines men the 
one way or the other ; but somewhat in the 
temper of their minds distinct from both, 
which I know not how better to express than 
by mental taste. And this hath no more of 
mystery in it, than that there is such a thing- 
belonging to our natures as complacency and 
displacency in reference to the objects of the 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 149 

mind And this, in the kind of it, is as com- 
mon xo men as human nature ; but as much 
diversified in individuals as men's other inclina- 
tions are." 

Now, this different taste in matters relating 
to religion, (though it may be sometimes natural, 
or what is born with a man, yet,) generally 
arises from the difference of education and cus- 
tom. And the true reason why some persons 
have an inveterate disrelish to certain circum- 
stantials of religion, though ever so justifiable, 
and at the same time a fixed esteem for others 
that are more exceptionable, may be no better 
than what I have heard some very honestly pro- 
fess, namely, that the one they have been used 
to, and the other not. As a person, by long use 
and habit, acquires a greater relish for coarse 
and unwholesome food, than the most delicate 
diet ; so a person long habituated to a set of 
phrases, notions, and modes, may, by degrees, 
come to have such a veneration and esteem for 
them, as to despise and condemn others which 
they have not been accustomed to, though per- 
haps more edifying and more agreeable to 
Scripture and reason. 

This particular taste in matters of religion 
differs very much (as Mr. Howe well observes) 
both from judgment and grace. 



150 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

However, it is often mistaken for both. 
When it is mistaken for the former, it leads to 
error ; when mistaken for the latter, to censo- 
riousness. 

This different taste of mental objects is much 
the same with that which, with regard to the 
objects of sense, we call fancy : for, as one man 
cannot be said to have a better judgment in food 
than another, purely because he likes some kind 
of meats better than he ; so neither can he be 
said to have a better judgment in matters of 
religion, purely because he hath a greater fond- 
ness for some particular doctrines and forms. 

But though this mental taste be not the same 
as the judgment, yet it often draws the judg- 
ment to it, and sometimes very much perverts it. 

This appears in nothing more evidently than 
in the judgment people pass upon the sermons 
they hear. Some are best pleased with those 
discourses that are pathetic and warming, others 
with what is more solid and rational, and others 
with the sublime and mystical. Nothing can 
be too plain for the taste of some, or to© refined 
for that of others. Some are for having the 
address only to their reason and understanding, 
others only to their affections and passions, 
and others to their experience and conscience. 
And every hearer, or reader, is apt to judge ac- 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 151 

cording to his particular taste, and to esteem 
him the best preacher or writer who pleases 
him most ; without examining, first, his own 
particular taste, by which he judgeth. 

It is natural, indeed, for every one to desire 
to have his own taste pleased ; but it is unrea- 
sonable in him to set it up as the best, and 
make it a test and standard to others ; but much 
more unreasonable to expect, that he who 
speaks in public should always speak to his 
taste, which might as reasonably be expected 
by another of a different taste. But it can no 
more be expected, that what is delivered to a 
multitude of hearers should alike suit all their 
tastes, than that a single dish, though prepared 
with ever so much art and exactness, should 
equally please a great variety of appetites ; 
among which there may be some, perhaps, very 
nice and sickly. 

It is the preacher's duty to adapt his subjects 
to the taste of his hearers, as far as fidelity 
and conscience will admit ; because it is well 
known, from reason and experience, as well as 
from the advice and practice of the apostle Paul,* 

* Rom. xv, 2 : " Let every one of us please his neighbour 
for his good to edification." 1 Cor. ix, 22 : " To the weak be- 
came I as weak, that I might gain the weak : I am made all 
things to all men, that I might by all means save some." 



152 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

that this is the best way to promote their 
edification. But if their taste be totally viti- 
ated, and incline them to take in that which 
will do them more harm than good, and to re- 
lish poison more than food, the most charitable 
thing the preacher can do in that case is to en- 
deavour to correct so vicious an appetite, which 
loathes that which is most wholesome, and 
craves that which is pernicious. This, I say, 
it is his duty to attempt in the most gentle and 
prudent manner he can, though he run the risk 
of having his judgment or orthodoxy called into 
question by them, as it very possibly may ; for, 
commonly, they are the most arbitrary and un- 
merciful judges in this case who are the least 
able to judge. 

There is not, perhaps, a more unaccountable 
weakness in human nature than this, that, with 
regard to religious matters, our animosities are 
generally greatest where our differences* are 
least : they who come pretty near to our stand- 
ard, but stop short there, are more the object of 
our disgust and censure, than they who con- 
tinue at the greatest distance from it ; and it 
requires the greatest knowledge and command 
of our temper to get over this weakness. To 
whatever secret spring in the human mind it 
may be owing, I shall not stay to inquire ; but 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 153 

the thing itself is too obvious not to be taken 
notice of. 

Now, we should, all of us, be careful to find 
out and examine our proper taste of religious 
things ; that, if it be a false one, we may rectify 
it ; if a bad one, mend it ; if a right and good 
one, strengthen and improve it. For the mind 
is capable of a false taste, as well as the palate, 
and comes by it the same way, namely, by being 
long used to unnatural relishes, which, by cus- 
tom, become grateful. And having found out 
what it is, and examined it by the test of Scrip- 
ture, reason, and conscience, if it be not very 
wrong, let us indulge it, and read those books 
that are most suited to it, which, for that rea- 
son, will be most edifying. But, at the same 
time, let us take care of two things : 1. That it 
do not bias our judgment, and draw us into 
error. 2. That it do not cramp our charity, 
and lead us to censoriousness. 



154 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Of our great and governing views in life. 

XVI. " Another part of self-knowledge is, 
to know what are the great ends for which we 
live." 

We must consider what is the ultimate scope 
we drive at ; the general maxims and princi- 
ples we live by ; or whether we have not yet 
determined our end, and are governed by no 
fixed principles, or by such as we are ashamed 
to own. 

There are few that live so much at random 
as not to have some main end in eye ; some- 
thing that influences their conduct, and is the 
great object of their pursuit and hope. A man 
cannot live without some leading views ; a wise 
man will always know what they are ; whether 
it is fit he should be led by them, or no ; 
whether they be such as his understanding and 
reason approve, or only such as fancy and in- 
clination suggest. He will be as much con- 
cerned to act with reason, as to talk with rea- 
son ; as much ashamed of a solecism and 
contradiction in his character, as in his con- 
versation. 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 155 

Where do our views centre 1 In this world 
we are in, or in that we are going to ? If our 
hopes and joys centre here, it is a mortifying 
thought, that we are every day " departing 
from our happiness;" but if they are fixed 
above, it is a joy to think, that we are every 
day drawing nearer to the object of our highest 
wishes. 

Is our main care to appear great in the eye 
of man, or good in the eye of God ? If the 
former, we expose ourselves to the pain of a 
perpetual disappointment ; for it is much, if the 
envy of men do not rob us of a great deal of 
our just praise, or if our vanity will be con- 
tent with that they allow us. But if the latter 
be our main care ; if our chief view is to be 
approved of God, we are laying up a fund of 
the most lasting and solid satisfactions : 
not to say that this is the truest way to ap- 
pear great in the eye of men, and to conciliate 
the esteem of all those whose praise is worth 
our wish. 

" Be this, then, O my soul ! thy wise and 
steady pursuit ; let this circumscribe and direct 
thy views ; be this a law to thee, from which 
account it a sin to depart, whatever disrespect 
or contempt it may expose thee to from others ;* 

* " What you have once wisely purposed stick to, as a law 



156 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

be this the character thou resolvest to live up to, 
and at all times to maintain, both in public and 
private, namely, a friend and lover of God ; in 
whose favour thou centrest all thy present and 
future hopes. Carry this view with thee through 
life, and dare not, in any instance, to act incon- 
sistently with it." 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

How to know the true state of our souls ; and whether we 
are fit to die. 

Lastly. " The most important point of self- 
knowledge, after all, is, to know the true state 
of our souls toward God, and in what condition 
we are to die." 

These two things are inseparably connected 
in their nature, and therefore I put them together. 
The knowledge of the former will determine 
the latter, and is the only thing than can deter- 
mine it ; for no man can tell whether he is fit 
for death, till he is acquainted with the true 
state of his own soul. 

not to be violated without guilt. And mind not what others 
say of you. 

" Fix your character, and keep to it ; whether alone or in 
company." — Epictetus. 






SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 157 

This, now, is a matter of such vast moment, 
that it is amazing any considerate man, or any 
one who thinks what it is to die, should rest 
satisfied with an uncertainty in it. Let us trace 
out this important point, then, with all possible 
plainness, and see if we cannot come to some 
satisfaction in it upon the most solid principles. 

In order to know, then, whether we are fit to 
die, we must first know, " what is it that fits us 
for death ?" And the answer to this is very na- 
tural and easy ; namely, " that only fits us for 
death that fits us for happiness after death." 

This is certain. But the question returns: 
" What is it that fits us for happiness after 
death ?" 

Now, in answer to this, there is a previous 
question necessary to be determined, namely, 
" What that happiness is ?" 

It is not a fool's paradise, or a Turkish dream 
of sensitive gratifications ; it must be a happi- 
ness suited to the nature of the soul, and what 
it is capable of enjoying in a state of separation 
from the body. And what can that be, but the 
enjoyment of God, the best of beings, and the 
author of ours ? 

The question, then, comes to this, " What is 
that which fits us for the enjoyment of God, in 
the future state of separate spirits ?" 



158 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

And, methinks, we may bring this matter to 
a very sure and short issue, by saying, it is 
" that which makes us like to him now." This 
only is our proper qualification for the enjoy- 
ment of him after death, and therefore our only 
proper preparation for death. For how can 
they who are unlike to God here, expect to 
enjoy him hereafter ? And if they have no just 
ground to hope that they shall enjoy God in the 
other world, how are they fit to die ? 

So that the great question, " Am I fit to die ?" 
resolves itself into this, " Am I like to God ?" 
for it is this only that fits me for heaven ; and 
that which fits me for heaven is the only thing 
that fits me for death. 

Let this point, then, be well searched into, 
and examined very deliberately and impar- 
tially. 

Most certain it is, that God can take no real 
complacency in any but those that are like him ; 
and it is as certain, that none but those that are 
like him can take pleasure in him. But God is 
a most pure and holy being ; a being of infinite 
love, mercy, and patience ; whose righteous- 
ness is invariable, whose veracity is inviolable, 
and whose wisdom unerring. These are the 
moral attributes of the divine Being, in which 



1 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 159 

he requires us to imitate him ; the express 
lineaments of the divine nature, in which all 
good men bear a resemblance to him, and for 
the sake of which only they are the objects of 
his delight : for God can love none but those that 
bear this impress of his own image on their 
souls. Do we find, then, these visible traces 
of the divine image there ? Can we make out 
our likeness to him in his holiness, goodness, 
mercy, righteousness, truth, and wisdom 1 If 
so, it is certain we are capable of enjoying 
him, and are the proper objects of his love. 
By this we know we are fit to die, because, 
by this we know we are fit for happiness after 
death. 

Thus, then, if we are faithful to our con- 
sciences, and impartial in the examination of 
our lives and tempers, we may soon come to a 
right determination of this important question, 
" What is the true state of our souls toward 
God, and in what condition are we to die ?"* 

* " Nor do I apprehend the knowledge of our state (call it 
assurance, if you please) so uncommon and extraordinary a 
thing as some are apt to imagine. Understand by assurance 
a satisfactory evidence of the thing, such as excludes all rea- 
sonable doubts and disquieting fears of the contrary, though, 
it may be, not all transient suspicions and jealousies. And 



160 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

Which, as it is the most important, so it is 
the last instance of self-knowledge I shall 
mention, and with it close the first part of 
this subject. 

such an assurance and certainty multitudes have attained, 
and enjoy the comfort of : and indeed it is of so high import- 
ance, that it is a wonder any thoughtful Christian that be 
lieves an eternity can be easy one day or week without it." 
Bennett's Christ. Orat., p. 569. 



\ TREATISE 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 



PART II. 



Showing the great excellence and advantages of this kind of 
science. 

Having, in the former part of the subject, 
laid open some of the main branches of self- 
knowledge, or pointed out the principal things 
which a man ought to be acquainted with, re- 
lating to himself, I am now, reader, to lay be- 
fore you the excellence and usefulness of this 
kind of knowledge, as an inducement to labour 
after it, by a detail of the several great advan- 
tages which attend it, and which shall be re- 
counted in the following chapters. 
11 



162 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

CHAPTER I 

Self-knowledge the spring of self-possession. 

" I. One great advantage of self-knowledge 
is, that it gives a man the truest and most con- 
stant self-possession." 

A man that is endowed with this excellent 
knowledge is calm and easy : — 

(1.) Under affronts and defamation. For he 
thinks thus : " I am sure I know myself better 
than any man can pretend to know me. This 
calumniator hath, indeed, at this time, missed 
his mark, and shot his arrows at random ; and 
it is my comfort, that my conscience acquits 
me of his angry imputation. However, there 
are worse crimes which he might more justly 
accuse me of, which, though hid from him, are 
known to myself. Let me set about reforming 
them, lest, if they come to his notice, he should 
attack me in a more defenceless part, find some- 
thing to fasten his obloquy, and fix a lasting 
reproach on my character. "* 

There is a great deal of truth and good sense 

* " If you are told that another reviles you, do not go about 
to vindicate yourself, but reply thus : My other faults I rind 
are hidden from him, else I should have heard of them too." — 
Epictetus. 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 163 

in that common saying and doctrine of the 
Stoics, though they might carry it too far, that 
" it is not things, but thoughts, that disturb and 
hurt us."* Now, a self-acquaintance teaches a 
man the right government of the thoughts, (as 
is shown above, part i, chap. 14,) it will help 
him to expel all anxious, tormenting, and fruit- 
less thoughts, and retain the most, quieting and 
useful ones, and so keep all easy within. Let 
a man but try the experiment, and he will find 
that a little resolution will make the greatest 
part of the difficulty vanish. 

(2.) Self-knowledge will be a good ballast to 
the mind under any accidental hurry or disor- 
der of the passions. It curbs their impetuosity, 
puts the reins into the hands of reason, quells 
the rising storm, ere it make shipwreck of the 
conscience, and teaches a man to " leave off 
contention before it be meddled with," Prov. 
xvii, 14; it being much safer to keep the lion 

* " It is not things, but men's opinion of things that disturbs 
them. Remember, it is not he that reviles or assaults you, 
that injures you, but your thinking that he has injured you. 
No man can hurt you, unless you permit him : then only are 
you hurt when you think yourself so. 

" Things do not touch the mind, but stand quietly without 
he vexation comes from within, from our suspicions only. 
Things themselves cannot affect the mind : for they have no 
entrance into it, to turn and move it. It is the mind alone 
that turns and moves itself." — Epictetus. 



164 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

chained than to encounter it in its full strength 
and fury. And thus will a wise man for his 
own peace deal with the passions of others, as 
well as his own. 

Self-knowledge, as it acquaints a man with 
his weaknesses and worst qualities, will be his 
guard against them, and a happy counterbalance 
to the faults and excesses of his natural temper. 

(3.) It will keep the mind sedate and calm 
under the surprise of bad news, or afflicting 
providences. 

" For, am I not a creature of God ? and my 
life and my comforts, are they not wholly at his 
dispose, from whom I have received them, and 
by whose favour I have so long enjoyed them, 
and by whose mercy and goodness I have still so 
many left me ? 

" A heathen can teach me, under such losses 
of friends, or estate, or any comfort, to direct 
my eyes to the hand of God, by whom it was 
lent me, and is now recalled, that I ought not 
to say, it is lost, but restored ; and though I be 
injuriously deprived of it, still the hand of God 
is to be acknowledged; for, what is it to me by 
what means he that gave me that blessing 
takes it from me again ?" — Epict. Enchirid., 
cap. 15. 

He that rightly knows himself, will live 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 165 

every day dependant on the divine Author of 
his mercies, for the continuance and enjoyment 
of them ; and will learn, from a higher autho- 
rity than that of a heathen moralist, that he 
hath nothing that he can properly call his own, 
or ought to depend upon as such ; that he is 
but a steward employed to dispense the good 
things he possesses, according to the direction 
of his Lord, at whose pleasure he holds them, 
and to whom he should be ready, at any time, 
cheerfully to resign them. Luke xvi, 1. 

(4.) Self-knowledge will help a man to pre- 
serve an equanimity and self-possession under 
all the various scenes of adversity and pros- 
perity. 

Both have their temptations. To some, the 
temptations of prosperity are the greatest ; to 
others, those of adversity. Self-knowledge 
shows a man which of these are greatest to 
him ; and, at the apprehension of them, teaches 
him to arm himself accordingly, that nothing 
may deprive him of his constancy and self-pos- 
session, or lead him to act unbecoming the man 
or the Christian. 

We commonly say, " No one knows what he 
can bear, till he is tried." And many persons 
verify the observation, by bearing evils much 
better than they feared they should. Nay, the 



166 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

apprehension of an approaching evil often 
gives a man a greater pain than the evil itself. 
This is owing to inexperience and self-igno- 
rance. 

A man that knows himself, his own strength 
and weakness, is not so subject as others to 
the melancholy presages of the imagination ; 
and, whenever they intrude, he makes no other 
use of them than to take the warning, collect 
himself, and prepare for the coming evil; leav- 
ing the degree, duration, and the issue of it 
with him who is the sovereign Disposer of all 
events, in a quiet dependance on his power, 
wisdom, and goodness. 

Such self-possession is one great effect and 
advantage of self-knowledge. 



CHAPTER II. 

Self-knowledge leads to a wise and steady conduct. 

II. (t As self-knowledge will keep a man 
calm and equal in his temper, so it will make 
him wise and cautious in his conduct." 

A precipitant and rash conduct is ever the 
effect of a confused and irregular hurry of the 
thoughts. So that, when, by the influence of 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 167 

self-knowledge, the thoughts become cool, se- 
date, and rational, the conduct will be so too. 
It will give a man that even, steady, uniform 
behaviour in the management of his affairs, 
that is so necessary for the despatch of business, 
and prevent many disappointments and troubles, 
which arise from the unsuccessful execution of 
immature or ill-judged projects. 

In short, most of the troubles which men 
meet with in the world may be traced up to this 
source, and resolved into self-ignorance. We 
may complain of Providence, and complain of 
men ; but the fault, if w*e examine it, will com- 
monly be found to be our own. Our imprudence, 
which arises from self-ignorance, either brings 
our troubles upon us, or increases them. Want 
of temper and conduct will make any affliction 
double. 

What a long train of difficulties do sometimes 
proceed from one wrong step in our conduct, 
which self-ignorance, or inconsideration, be- 
trayed us into ! And every evil that befalls us, 
in consequence of that, we are to charge upon 
ourselves. 



168 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 



CHAPTER III. 

Humility the effect of self-knowledge. 

III. " True self-knowledge always produces 
humility." 

Pride is ever the offspring of self-ignorance. 
The reason men are vain and self-sufficient is, 
because they do not know their own failings ; 
and the reason they are not better acquainted 
with them is, because they hate self-inspection. 
Let a man but turn his eyes within, scrutinize 
himself, and study his own heart, and he will 
soon see enough to make him humble. " Be- 
hold, I am vile," (Job xl, 4,) is the language 
only of self-knowledge. 

Whence is it that young people are generally 
so vain, self-sufficient, and assured, but because 
they have taken no time or pains to cultivate a 
self-acquaintance 1 And why does pride and 
stiffness appear so often in advanced age, but 
because men grow old in self-ignorance ? A 
moderate degree of self-knowledge would cure 
an inordinate degree of self-complacency. 

Humility is not more necessary to salvation, 
than self-knowledge is to humility. 

And especially would it prevent that bad dis- 
position which is too apt to steal upon and in- 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 169 

feet some of the best human minds, especially 
those who aim at singular and exalted degrees 
of piety, namely, a religious vanity, or spiritual 
pride ; which, without a great deal of self- 
knowledge and self-attention, will gradually in- 
sinuate into the heart, taint the mind, and so- 
phisticate our virtues, before we are aware ; and, 
in proportion to its prevalence, make the Chris- 
tian temper degenerate into the pharisaical. 

" Might I be allowed to choose my own lot, 
I should think it much more eligible to want 
my spiritual comforts, than to abound in these, 
at the expense of my humility. No ; let a 
penitent and contrite spirit be always my por- 
tion ; and may I ever so be the favourite of 
Heaven as never to forget that I am chief of 
sinners. Knowledge in the sublime and glori- 
ous mysteries of the Christian faith, and ravish- 
ing contemplations of God and a future state, 
are most desirable advantages ; but still I prefer 
charity, which edifieth, before the highest in- 
tellectual perfections of that knowledge which 
puffeth up. 1 Cor. viii, 1. Those spiritual ad- 
vantages are certainly best for us which in- 
crease our modesty and awaken our caution, 
and dispose us to suspect and deny ourselves. 
The highest in God's esteem are meanest in 
their own : and their excellence consists in the 



170 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

meekness and truth, not in the pomp and osten- 
tation of piety, which affects to be seen and 
admired of men."* — Stanhope's Thomas a Kern- 
pis, book ii, chap. 11. 

* In the same work Christ is supposed to address his dis- 
ciple in the following words : "My son, when thou feelest thy 
soul wanned with devotion and holy zeal for my service, it 
will be advisable to decline all those methods of publishing it 
to the world, which vain men are so industrious to take, and 
content thyself with its being known to God and thine own 
conscience. Rather endeavour to moderate and suppress 
those pompous expressions of it, in which some place the 
very perfection of zeal. Think meanly of thy own virtues. 
Some men of a bold ungoverned zeal aspire at things beyond 
their strength, and express more vehemence than conduct in 
their actions. They are perfectly carried out of themselves 
with eagerness ; forget that they are still poor insects upon 
earth, and think of nothing less than building their nest in 
heaven. Virtue does not consist in abundance of illumination 
and knowledge ; but in lowliness of mind, in meekness and 
charity ; in a mind entirely resigned to God, and sincerely 
disposed to serve and please him. 

" It is a dangerous drunkenness, I confess, that of wine ; 
but there is another more dangerous. How many persons do 
I see in the world drunk with vanity, and a high opinion of 
themselves ! This drunkenness causes them to make a thou- 
sand false steps and a thousand stumbles. Their ways are 
all oblique and crooked. Like men in drink, they have always 
a great opinion of their own wisdom, their power and their 
prudence : all which often fail them. Examine well thyself, 
my soul : see if thou art not tainted with this evil." 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 171 



CHAPTER IV. 

Charity another effect of self-knowledge. 

IV. " Self-knowledge greatly promotes a 
spirit of meekness and charity." 

The more a man is acquainted with his own 
failings, the more is he disposed to make allow- 
ances for those of others. The knowledge he 
hath of himself will incline him to be as severe 
in his animadversions on his own conduct as 
he is on that of others, and as candid to their 
faults as he is to his own.* 

There is an uncommon beauty, force, and 
propriety, in that caution which our Saviour 
gives us, Matt, vii, 3-5 : " And why beholdest 
thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but 
considerest not the beam that is in thine own 
eye ? Or how wilt thou say to thy brother, Let 
me pull out the mote out of thine eye, and be- 
hold a beam is in thine own eye ? Thou 
hypocrite, first cast the beam out of thine own 
eye, and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out 
the mote out of thy brother's eye." In which 

* " The great God seems to have given that commandment, 
know thyeslf, to those men more especially who are apt 
to make remarks on other men's actions, and forget them- 
selves." — Plutarch. 



172 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

words these four things are plainly intimated : 

1. That some are much more quick-sighted to 
discern the faults and blemishes of others than 
their own ; can spy a mote in another's eye 
sooner than a beam in their own: and common- 
ly it is so ; they who are most quick-sighted to 
the faults of others, are most blind to their own. 

2. That they are often the most forward and 
officious to correct and cure the foibles of 
others, who are most unfit for it. The beam in 
their own eye makes them altogether unfit to 
pull out the mote from their brother's. A man, 
half blind himself, should never set up for an 
oculist. 3. That they who are inclined to 
deal in censure should always begin at home. 
4. Great censoriousness is great hypocrisy. 
" Thou hypocrite," &c, all this is nothing but 
the effect of woful self-ignorance. 

This common failing of the human nature the 
heathens were very sensible of, and represent- 
ed it in the following manner. Every man, say 
they, carries a wallet, or two bags, with him ; 
the one hanging before him, the other behind 
him : in that before, he puts the faults of others ; 
into that behind, his own ; by which means, 
he never sees his own failings, while he has 
those of others always before his eyes. 

But self-knowledge now, helps us to turn 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 173 

this wallet, and place that which hath our own 
faults before our eyes, and that which hath in 
it those of others behind our back. A very- 
necessary regulation this, if we would behold 
our own faults in the same light in which they 
do ; for we must not expect that others w 7 ill be 
as blind to our foibles as we ourselves are ; 
they will carry them before their eyes, whether 
we do or no. And to imagine that the world 
takes no notice of them, because we do not, is 
just as wise as to fancy that others do not see 
us, because we shut our eyes. 



CHAPTER V. 

Moderation the effect of self-knowledge. 

V. " Another genuine offspring of self-know- 
ledge is moderation." 

This, indeed, can hardly be conceived to be 
separate from that meekness and charity before 
mentioned ; but I choose to give it a distinct 
mention, because I consider it under a different 
view and operation, namely, as that which guards 
and influences our spirits in all matters of de- 
bate and controversy. 

Moderation is a great and important Chris- 



174 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

tian virtue, very different from that bad quality 
of the mind under which it is often misrepre- 
sented and disguised, namely, lukewarmness 
and indifference about the truth. The former is 
very consistent with a regular and well-correct- 
ed zeal ; the latter consists in the total want of 
it : the former is sensible of, and endeavours, 
with peace and prudence, to maintain the dig- 
nity and importance of divine doctrines ; the 
latter hath no manner of concern about them : 
the one feels the secret influences of them ; the 
other is quite a stranger to their power and effi- 
cacy : the one laments, in secret, the sad decay 
of vital religion ; the other is an instance of it. 
In short, the one proceeds from true knowledge, 
the other from great ignorance ; the one is a 
good mark of sincerity, the other a certain sign 
of hypocrisy. And to confound two things to- 
gether which are so essentially different, can 
be the effect of nothing but great ignorance, or 
inconsideration, or an over-heated, injudicious 
zeal. 

A self-knowing man can easily distinguish 
between these two. And the knowledge which 
he has of human nature in general, from a 
thorough contemplation of his own in particu- 
lar, shows him the necessity of preserving a 
medium (as in every thing else, so especially) 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 175 

between the two extremes of a bigoted zeal on 
the one hand, and an indolent lukewarmness 
on the other. As he will not look upon every 
thing to be worth contending for, so he will 
look upon nothing worth losing his temper for 
in the contention ; because, though the truth be 
of ever so great importance, nothing can be 
of a greater disservice to it, or make a man 
more incapable of defending it, than intempe- 
rate heat and passion, whereby he injures and 
betrays the cause he is over anxious to main- 
tain. " The wrath of man worketh not the 
righteousness of God," James i, 20. 

Self-knowledge heals our animosities, and 
greatly cools our debates about matters of dark 
and doubtful speculation. One who knows 
himself sets too great a value upon his time 
and temper, to plunge rashly into those vain 
and fruitless controversies, in which one of 
them is sure to be lost, and the other in great 
danger of being so, especially when a man of 
bad temper and bad principles is the opponent; 
who aims rather to silence his adversary 
with overbearing confidence, dark unmeaning 
language, authoritative airs, and hard words, 
than convince him with solid argument ; and 
who plainly contends, not for truth, but for vic- 
tory. Little good can De done to the bes* cause 



176 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

in such a circumstance. And a wise and mo- 
derate man, who knows human nature, and 
knows himself, will rather give his antagonist 
the pleasure of an imaginary triumph, than en- 
gage in so unequal a combat. 

An eagerness and zeal for dispute on every 
subject, and with every one, shows great self- 
sufficiency, that never-failing sign of great self- 
ignorance. And true moderation, which con- 
sists in an indifference about little things, and 
in a prudent and well-proportioned zeal about 
things of importance, can proceed from nothing 
but true knowledge, which has its foundation 
in self-acquaintance. 



CHAPTER VI. 

Self-knowledge improves the judgment. 

VI. "Another great advantage of being 
well acquainted with ourselves is, that it helps 
us to form a better judgment of other things." 

Self-knowledge, indeed, does not enlarge or 
increase our natural capacities, but it guides 
and regulates them ; leads us to the right use 
and application of them ; and removes a great 
many things which obstruct the due exercise 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 177 

of them, as pride, prejudice, and passion, &c, 
which oftentimes so miserably pervert the ra- 
tional powers. 

He that hath taken a just measure of him- 
self, is thereby better able to judge of other 
things. 

(1.) He knows how to judge of men and hu- 
man nature better. For human nature, setting 
aside the difference of natural genius, and the 
improvements of education and religion, is 
pretty much the same in all. There are the 
same passions and appetites, the same natural 
infirmities and inclinations in all, though some 
are more predominant and distinguishable in 
some than they are in others. So that, if a man 
be but well acquainted with his own, this, to- 
gether with a very little observation on the 
ways of men, will soon discover to him those 
of others, and show him very impartially the 
particular failings and excellences of men, 
and help him to form a much truer sentiment 
of them, than if he were to judge only by their 
exterior, the appearance they make in the eye 
of the world, (than which sometimes nothing 
shows them in a falser light,) or by popular 
opinions and prejudices. 

(2.) Self-knowledge will teach us to judge 
rightly of facts as well as men. It will exhibit 
12 



178 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

things to the mind in their proper light and true 
colours, without those false glasses and appear- 
ances which fancy throws upon them, or in 
which the imagination often paints them. It 
will teach us to judge, not with the imagination, 
but with the understanding ; and will set a 
guard upon the former, which so often repre- 
sents things in wrong views, and gives the 
mind false impressions of them. See part i, 
chapter iv. 

(3.) It helps us to estimate the true value of 
all worldly good things. It rectifies our notions 
of them, and lessens that enormous esteem we 
are apt to have for them. For when a man 
knows himself, and his true interests, he will 
see how far, and in what degree, these things 
are suitable to him, and subservient to his good ; 
and how far they are unsuitable, ensnaring, and 
pernicious. This, and not the common opinion 
of the world, will be his rule of judging con- 
cerning them. By this he will see quite through 
them ; see what they really are at bottom, and 
how far a wise man ought to desire them. The 
reason why men value them so extravagantly 
is, because they take a superficial view of them, 
and only look upon their outside, where they 
are most showy and inviting. Were they to 
look within them, consider their intrinsic worth, 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 179 

their ordinary effects, their tendency, and their 
end, they would not be so apt to overvalue them. 
And a man that has learned to see through him- 
self can easily see through these.* 



CHAPTER VII. 

Self-knowledge directs to the proper exercise of self-denial. 

VII. " A man that knows himself, best knows 
how, and wherein, he ought to deny himself." 

The great duty of self-denial, which our Sa- 
viour so expressly requires of all his followers, 
(plain and necessary as it is.) has been much 
mistaken and abused, and that not only by the 
Church of Rome, in their doctrines of penance, 
fasts, and pilgrimages, but by some Protestant 
Christians, in the instances of voluntary absti- 
nence, and unnecessary austerities ; whence 
they are sometimes apt to be too censorious 

* " Riches, honours, powers, and the like, which owe all 
their worth to our false opinion of them, are too apt to draw 
the heart from virtue. We know not how to prize them ; 
they are not to be judged of by the common report, but by their 
own nature. They have nothing to attract our esteem, but 
that we are used to admire them ; they are not praised be- 
cause they are things that ought to be desired, but they are 
desired because they are generally praised." — Seneca. 



180 SELF-KNOWLEDGE 

against those who indulge themselves in the use 
of those indifferent things, which they make it a 
point of conscience to abstain from. Whereas, 
would they confine their exercise of self-denial 
to the plain and important points of Christian 
practice, devoutly performing the necessary 
duties they are most averse to, and resolutely 
avoiding the known sins they are most inclined 
to, under the direction of Scripture, they would 
soon become more solid, judicious, and exem- 
plary Christians : and did they know them- 
selves, they would easily see, that herein there 
is occasion and scope enough for self-denial, 
and that to a degree of greater severity and 
difficulty than there is in those little corporeal 
abstinences and mortifications they enjoin them- 
selves. 

(1.) Self-knowledge will direct us to the ne- 
cessary exercises of self-denial, with regard to 
the duties our tempers are most averse to. 

There is no one, but, at some times, finds a 
great backwardness and indisposition to some 
duties, which he knows to be seasonable and 
necessary. This, then, is a proper occasion 
for self-discipline. For, to indulge this indispo- 
sition is very dangerous, and leads to an habit- 
ual neglect of known duty ; and to resist and 
oppose it, and prepare for a diligent and faith- 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 181 

ful discharge of the duty, notwithstanding the 
many pleas and excuses that carnal disposition 
may urge for the neglect of it, this requires no 
small pains and self-denial, and yet is very 
necessary to the peace of conscience. 

And, for our encouragement to this piece of 
self-denial, we need only remember, that the 
difficulty of the duty, or our unfitness for it, 
will, upon the trial, be found to be much less 
than we apprehended ; and the pleasure of re- 
flecting, that we have discharged our con- 
sciences, and given a fresh testimony of our 
uprightness, will more than compensate the 
pains and difficulty we found therein. And the 
oftener these criminal propensions to the wilful 
neglect of duty are opposed and overcome, the 
seldomer will they return, or the weaker will 
they grow, till at last, by divine grace, they will 
be wholly vanquished, and, in the room of them, 
will succeed an habitual " readiness to every 
good work," (Titus iii, 1,) and a very sensible 
delight therein ; a much happier effect than 
can be expected from the severest exercises of 
self-denial in the instances before mentioned. 

(2.) A man that knows himself, will see an 
equal necessity for self-denial, in order to check 
and control his inclinations to sinful actions ; 
to subdue the rebel within ; to resist the solici- 



182 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

tations of sense and appetite ; to summon all 
his wisdom to avoid the occasions and tempta- 
tions to sin, and all his strength to oppose it. 

All this (especially if it be a favourite or a 
constitutional inquiry) will cost a man pains and 
mortification enough ; for instance, the subdu- 
ing a violent passion, or taming a sensual incli- 
nation, or forgiving an apparent injury and 
affront. It is evident such a self-conquest can 
never be attained without much self-knowledge 
and self-denial. 

And that self-denial that is exercised this 
way, as it will be a better evidence of our sin- 
cerity, so it will be more helpful and ornament- 
al to the interests of religion, than the greatest 
zeal in those particular duties which are more 
suitable to our natural tempers, or than the 
greatest austerities in some particular instances 
of mortification, which are not so necessary, 
and perhaps not so difficult or disagreeable to 
us as this. 

To what amazing heights of piety may some 
be thought to mount, (raised on the wings of a 
flaming zeal, and distinguished by uncommon 
preciseness and severity about little things,) 
who all the while, perhaps, cannot govern one 
passion, and appear yet ignorant of, and slaves 
to, their darling iniquity ! Through an igno- 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 183 

ranee of themselves, they misapply their zeal, 
and misplace their self-denial, and, by that 
means, blemish their characters with a visible 
inconsistency. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Self-knowledge promotes our usefulness in the world. 

VIII. "The more we know of ourselves, 
the more useful we are like to be in those sta- 
tions of life in which Providence hath fixed 
us." 

When we know our proper talents and capa- 
cities, we know in what manner we are capa- 
ble of being useful ; and the consideration of 
our characters and relations in life will direct 
us to the proper application of those talents ; 
show us to what ends they were given us, and 
to what purposes they ought to be cultivated 
and improved. 

It is a sad thing to observe, how miserably 
some men debase and prostitute their capaci- 
ties. Those gifts and indulgences of nature 
by which they outshine many others, and by 
which they are capable of doing real service 
to the cause of virtue and religion, and of being 



184 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

eminently useful to mankind, they either en- 
tirely neglect, or shamefully abuse, to the dis- 
honour of God, and the prejudice of their fel- 
low-creatures, by encouraging and imboldening 
them in the ways of vice and vanity. For the 
false glare of a profane wit will sometimes 
make such strong impressions on a weak, un- 
settled mind, as to overbear the principles of 
reason and wisdom, and give it too favourable 
sentiments of what it before abhorred; whereas 
the same force and sprightliness of genius 
would have been very happily and usefully 
employed in putting sin out of countenance, 
and in rallying the follies, and exposing the 
inconsistencies, of a vicious and profligate cha- 
racter. 

When a man once knows where his strength 
lies, wherein he excels, or is capable of excel- 
ling, how far his influence extends, and in what 
station of life Providence hath fixed him, and 
the duties of that station, he then knows what 
talents he ought to cultivate, in what manner, 
and to what objects they are to be particularly 
directed and applied, in order to shine in that 
station, and be useful in it. This will keep 
him even and steady in his pursuits and views, 
consistent with himself, uniform in his conduct, 
and useful to mankind ; and will prevent his 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 185 

shooting at a wrong mark, or missing the right 
mark he aims at, as thousands do for want of 
this necessary branch of self-knowledge. — See 
part i, chap. v. 



CHAPTER IX. 

Self-knowledge leads to a decorum and consistency of cha- 
racter. 

IX. " A max that knows himself, knows how 
to act with discretion and dignity in ev r ery sta- 
tion and character." 

Almost all the ridicule we see in the world 
takes its rise from self-ignorance ; and to this, 
mankind, by common assent, ascribe it, when 
they say of a person that acts out of character, 
he does not know himself. Affectation is the 
spring of all ridicule, and self-ignorance the true 
source of affectation. A man that does not 
know his proper character, nor what becomes 
it, cannot act suitably to it. He will often affect 
a character which does not belong to him ; and 
will either act above or beneath himself, which 
will make him equally contemptible in the eyes 
of them that know him. 

A man of superior rank and character, that 
knows himself, knows that he is but a man ; 



186 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

subject to the same sicknesses, frailties, disap- 
pointments, pains, passions, and sorrows, as 
other men ; that true honour lies in those things 
in which it is possible for the meanest peasant 
to exceed him, and therefore he will not be 
vainly arrogant. He knows that they are only 
transitory and accidental things that set him 
above the rest of mankind ; that he will soon 
be upon a level with them ; and therefore learns 
to condescend : and there is a dignity in this 
condescension ; it does not sink, but exalts his 
reputation and character. 

A man of inferior rank that knows himself, 
knows how to be content, quiet, and thankful 
in his lower sphere. As he has not an extra- 
vagant veneration and esteem for those external 
things which raise one man's circumstances so 
much above another's, so he does not look upon 
himself as the worse or less valuable man for 
not having them ; much less does he envy 
them that have them. As he has not their ad- 
vantages, so neither has he their temptations ; 
he is in that state of life which the great Arbiter 
and Disposer of all things hath allotted him, 
and he is satisfied : but as a deference is owing 
to external superiority, he knows how to pay a 
proper respect to those that are above him, 
without that abject and servile cringing which 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 187 

discovers an inordinate esteem for their condi- 
tion. As he does not over-esteem them for 
those little accidental advantages in which they 
excel him, so neither does he over-value him- 
self for those things in which he excels others. 

Were hearers to know themselves, they 
would not take upon them to dictate to their 
preachers, or teach their ministers how to teach 
them ; (which, as St. Austin observes, is the 
same thing as if a patient, when he sends for a 
physician, should prescribe to him what he 
would have him prescribe ;) but if they happen 
to hear something not quite agreeable to their 
former sentiments, would betake themselves 
more diligently to the study of their Bibles, to 
know " whether those things were so," Acts 
xvii, 11. 

And were ministers to know themselves, they 
would know the nature and duty of their office, 
and the wants and infirmities of their hearers, 
better than to domineer over their faith, or 
shoot over their heads, and seek their own po- 
pularity rather than their benefit ; they would 
be more solicitous for their edification than 
their approbation; and, like a faithful physician, 
would earnestly intend and endeavour their 
good, though it be in a way they may not like ; 
and rather risk their own characters with weak 



188 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

and captious men, than " withhold any thing 
that is needful for them," or be unfaithful to 
God and their own consciences. The most 
palatable food is not always the most whole- 
some. Patients must not expect to be always 
pleased, nor physicians to be always applauded. 



CHAPTER X. 

Piety the effect of self-knowledge. 

X. " Self-knowledge tends greatly to cul- 
tivate a spirit of true piety." 

Ignorance is so far from being the mother of 
devotion, that nothing is more destructive of it; 
and of all ignorance none is a greater bane to it 
than self-ignorance. This, indeed, is very con- 
sistent with superstition, bigotry, and enthusi- 
asm, those common counterfeits of piety, which, 
by weak and credulous minds, are often mis- 
taken for it. But true piety and real devotion 
can only spring from a just knowledge of God 
and ourselves ; and the relation we stand in to 
him, and the dependance we have upon him. 
For when we consider ourselves as the crea- 
tures of God, whom he made for his honour ; 
and as creatures incapable of any happiness 
but what results from his favour : and as en- 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 189 

tirely and continually dependant upon him for 
every thing we have and hope for ; and while 
we bear this thought in our minds, what can 
induce or prompt us more to love, and to fear, 
and trust him, as our God, our Father, and all- 
sufficient Friend and Helper ? 



CHAPTER XL 

Self-knowledge teaches us rightly to perform the duties of 
religion. 

XL " Self-knowledge will be a good help 
and direction to us in many of our religious du- 
ties and Christian exercises." Particularly, 

(1.) In the duty of prayer, both as to the 
matter and the mode. He that rightly knows 
himself will be very sensible of his spiritual 
wants, and he that is well acquainted with his 
spiritual wants will not be at a loss what to 
pray for. " Our hearts would be the best prayer- 
books, if we were skilful in reading them. 
Why do men pray, and call for prayers, when 
they come to die, but that they begin a little 
better to know themselves ? And were they now 
but to hear the voice of God and conscience, 
they would not remain speechless. But they 
that are born deaf are always dumb." — Baxter. 



190 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

Again, self-knowledge will teach us to pray, 
not only with fluency, but fervency ; will help 
us to keep the heart, as well as order our speech, 
before God ; and so promote the grace as well 
as gift of prayer. Did we but seriously consider 
what we are, and what we are about ; whom 
we pray to, and what we pray for ; it is impos- 
sible we should be so dead, spiritless, and for- 
mal in this duty as we too often are. The very 
thought would inspire us with life, and faith, 
and fervour. 

(2.) Self-knowledge will be very helpful to 
us in the duty of thanksgiving : as it makes us 
mindful of the mercies we receive ; the suita- 
bleness and the seasonableness of them. A 
self-knowing man considers what he hath, as 
well as what he wants ; is at once sensible, 
both of the value of his mercies, and his un- 
worthiness of them : and this is what makes 
him thankful. For this reason it is, that one 
Christian's heart even melts with gratitude for 
those very mercies which others disesteem and 
depreciate, and perhaps despise, because they 
have not what they think greater. But a man 
that knows himself, knows that he deserves 
nothing, and therefore is thankful for every 
thing. For thankfulness as necessarily flows 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 191 

from humility, as humility does from self-ac- 
quaintance. 

(3.) In the duties of reading and hearing the 
word of God, self-knowledge is of excellent 
use, to enable us to understand and apply that 
which we read or hear. Did we understand 
our hearts better, we should understand the 
word of God better, for that speaks to the heart. 
A man that is acquainted with his heart, easily 
sees how it penetrates and explores, searches 
and lays open its most inward parts. He feels 
what he reads ; and finds that a quickening 
spirit, which, to a self-ignorant man, is but a 
dead letter. 

Moreover, this self-acquaintance teaches a 
man to apply what he reads and hears of the 
word of God ; he sees the pertinence, congruity, 
and suitableness of it to his own case ; and lays 
it up faithfully in the store-room of his mind, to 
be digested and improved by his after thoughts. 
And it is by this art of aptly applying Scripture, 
and urging the most suitable instructions and 
admonitions of it home upon our consciences, 
that we receive the greatest benefit by it. 

(4.) Nothing is of more eminent service in 
the great duty of meditation, especially in that 
part of it which consists in heart converse. A 



192 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

man who is unacquainted with himself, is as 
unfit to converse with his heart as he is with a 
stranger he never saw, and whose taste and 
temper he is altogether unacquainted with : he 
knows not how to get his thoughts about him ; 
and when he has, he knows not how to range 
and fix them, and hath no more the command 
of them, than a general has of a wild, undis- 
ciplined army, that has never been exercised, 
or accustomed to obedience and order. But 
one, who hath made it the study of his life to 
be acquainted with himself, is soon disposed to 
enter into a free and familiar converse with his 
own heart ; and in such a self-conference im- 
proves more in true wisdom, and acquires more 
useful and substantial knowledge, than he could 
do from the most polite and refined conversa- 
tion in the world. Of such excellent use is 
self-knowledge in all the duties of piety and 
devotion. 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE 193 



CHAPTER XII. 

Self-knowledge the best preparation for death. 

XII. " Self-knowledge will be an habitual 
preparation for death, and a constant guard 
against the surprise of it," because it fixes and 
settles our hopes of future happiness. That 
which makes the thoughts of death so terrifying 
to the soul, is its utter uncertainty what will 
become of it after death. Were this uncertain- 
ty but removed, a thousand things would recon- 
cile us to the thoughts of dying.* 

"Distrust and darkness of a future state 
Is that which makes mankind to dread their fate : 
Dying is nothing ; but 'tis this we fear, 
To be we know not what, we know not where." 

Now, self-knowledge, in a good degree, 
removes this uncertainty : for, as the word of 
God hath revealed the certainty of a future 
state of happiness, which good men shall enter 
upon after death, and plainly described the 
requisite qualifications for it ; when a good man, 

* It is this makes us averse from death, that it translates 
us to things we are unacquainted with, and we tremble at the 
thought of those things that are unknown to us. We are, na- 
turally afraid of being in the dark ; and death is a leap in the 
dark. 

13 



194 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

by a long and laborious self-acquaintance, comes 
distinctly to discern those qualifications in him- 
self, his hopes of heaven soon raise him above 
the fears of death ; and though he may not be 
able to form any clear or distinct conception of 
the nature of that happiness, yet, in general, he 
is assured, that it will be a most exquisite and 
satisfying one, and will contain in it everything 
necessary to make it complete, because it will 
come immediately from God himself. Where- 
as, they who are ignorant what they are, must 
necessarily be ignorant what they shall be. A 
man that is all darkness within, can have but 
a dark prospect forward.* 

O ! what would we not give for solid hope 
in death ! Reader, wouldst thou have it, know 
God, and know thyself. 

* Who exposed to others eyes 
Into his own heart never pries, 
Death's to him a strange surprise. 



A TREATISE 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 



PART III. 



Showing how self-knowledge is to be attained. 

From what hath been said under the two for- 
mer parts of the subject, self-knowledge appears 
to be in itself so excellent, and its effects so 
extensively useful and conducive to the happi- 
ness of human kind, that nothing need further 
be added by way of motive or inducement to 
excite us to make it the great object of our study 
and pursuit. If we regard our present peace, 
satisfaction, and usefulness, or our future and 
everlasting interests, we shall certainly value 
and prosecute this knowledge above all others, 
as what will be most ornamental to our charac- 
ters, and beneficial to our interest, in every 
state of life, and abundantly recompense all our 
labour. 



J 96 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

Were there need of any further motives to 
excite us to this, I might lay open the many 
dreadful effects of self-ignorance, and show how 
plainly it appears to be the original spring of all 
the follies and incongruities we see in the cha- 
racters of men, and of most of the mortifications 
and miseries they meet with here. This would 
soon appear, by only mentioning the reverse of 
those advantages before specified, which natu- 
rally attend self-knowledge : for what is it but 
a want of self-knowledge and self-government 
that makes us so unsettled and volatile in our 
dispositions ? so subject to transport and excess 
of passions in the varying scenes of life ? so 
rash and unguarded in our conduct ? so vain and 
self-sufficient ? so censorious and malignant ? 
so eager and confident ? so little useful in the 
world to what we might be ? so inconsistent 
with ourselves ? so mistaken in our notions of 
true religion? so generally indisposed to, or 
unengaged in, the holy exercises of it? and, 
finally, so unfit for death, and so afraid of dying? 
I say, to what is all this owing, but self-igno- 
rance ? the first and fruitful source of all this 
long train of evils. And, indeed, there is 
scarce any but what may be traced up to it. In 
short, it brutifies man to be ignorant of himself. 
" Man that is in honour, and understandeth not, 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 197 

(himself especially,) is as the beasts that per 
ish," Psalm xlix, 20. 

" Come home, then, my wandering, self 
neglecting soul ! lose not thyself in a wilder 
ness or tumult of impertinent, vain, distracting 
things. Thy work is nearer thee : the country 
thou shouldst first survey and travel is within 
thee ; from which thou must pass to that above 
thee ; when, by losing thyself in this without 
thee, thou wilt find thyself, before thou art 
aware, in that below thee. Let the eyes of 
fools be in the corners of the earth ; leave it- to 
men beside themselves to live as without them- 
selves ; do thou keep at home, and mind thine 
own business ; survey thyself, thine own make 
and nature, and thou wilt find full employ for 
all thy most active thoughts. But, dost thou 
delight in the mysteries of nature ? consider 
well the mystery of thy own. The compen- 
dium of all thou studiest is near thee, even 
within thee ; thyself being the epitome of the 
world.* If either necessity or duty, nature or 
grace, reason or faith, internal inducements, 
external impulses, or eternal motives, might 

* Who can sufficiently admire the noble nature of that crea- 
ture man, who hath in him the mortal and the immortal, the 
rational and the irrational natures united, and so carries about 
with him the image of the whole creation? whence he is call 
ed microcosm, or the little world. 



198 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

determine the subject of thy study and contem- 
plation, thou wouldst call home thy distracted 
thoughts, and employ them more on thyself and 
thy God." — Baxter's Mischief of Self ignorance. 
Now, then, let us resolve, that henceforth the 
study of ourselves shall be the business of our 
lives ; that, by the blessing of God, we may ar- 
rive at such a degree of self-knowledge as may 
secure to us the excellent benefits before men- 
tioned : to which end we would do well to 
attend diligently to the rules laid down in the 
following chapters. 



CHAPTER I. 

Self-examination necessary to self-knowledge. 

1. " The first thing necessary to self-know- 
ledge is self-inspection." 

We must often look into our hearts, if we 
would know them. They are very deceitful ; 
more so than any man can think, till he has 
searched, and tried, and watched them. We 
may meet with frauds and faithless dealings 
from men ; but, after all, our own hearts arc 
the greatest cheats, and there are none we are 
in greater danger from than ourselves. We 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 199 

must first suspect ourselves, then examine our- 
selves, then watch ourselves, if we expect ever 
to know ourselves. How is it possible there 
should be any self-acquaintance without self- 
converse ? 

Were a man to accustom himself to such 
self-employment, he need not live " till thirty, 
before he suspects himself a fool, or till forty, 
before he knows it."* — Night Thoughts, part i. 

Men could never be so bad as they are if 
they did but take a proper care and scope in 
this business of self-examination ; if they did 
but look backward to what they were, inward 
to what they are, and forward to what they 
shall be. 

And as this is the first and most necessary 
step to self-acquaintance, it may not be amiss 
to be a little more particular in it. Therefore, 

(1.) This business of self-scrutiny must be 
performed with great care and diligence, other- 
wise our hearts will deceive us even while we 
are examining them. " When we set ourselves 

* " At thirty man suspects himself a fool, 
Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan ; 
At fifty chides his infamous delay, 
Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve ; 
In all the magnanimity of thought 
Resolves, and re-resolves ; then dies th#same." 

Night Thoughts. 



200 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

to think, some trifle or other presently inter- 
rupts and draws us off from any profitable re- 
collection. Nay, we ourselves fly out, and are 
glad to be diverted from a severe examination 
into our own state ; which is sure, if diligently 
pursued, to present us with objects of shame 
and sorrow, which will wound our sight, and 
soon make us weary of this necessary work." — 
Stanhope's Thomas a Kempis, p. 166. 

Do not let us flatter ourselves, then, that this 
is a mighty easy business : much pains and 
care are necessary sometimes to keep the mind 
intent, and more to keep it impartial ; and the 
difficulty of it is the reason that so many are 
averse to it, and care not to descend into them- 
selves. 

Reader, try the experiment ; retire now into 
thyself, and see if thou canst not strike out some 
light within, by closely urging such questions 
as these : — " What am I ? for what was I made ? 
and to what ends have I been preserved so 
long by the favour of my Maker ? Do I re- 
member, or forget those ends 1 Have I answer- 
ed, or perverted them 1 What have I been 
doing since I came into the world ? What is 
the world or myself the better for my living so 
many years in it ? What is my allowed course 
of actions ? Am I sure it will bear the future 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 201 

test ? Am I now in that state I shall wish to 
die in .? And, O my soul, think, and think again, 
what it is to die ! Do not put that most awful 
event far from thee ; nor pass it by with a su- 
perficial thought. Canst thou be too well for- 
tified against the terrors of that day ? and art 
thou sure that the props which support thee 
now will not fail thee then ? What hopes hast 
thou for eternity 1 Hast thou, indeed, that holy, 
godlike temper, which alone can fit thee for the 
enjoyment of God ? Which world art thou 
most concerned for ! What things do most 
deeply affect thee ? O my soul, remember thy 
dignity ; think how soon the scene will shift. 
Why shouldest thou forget thou art immortal ?" 

(2.) This self-excitation and scrutiny must 
be very frequently made. They who have a 
great deal of important business on their hands 
should be often looking over their accounts, and 
frequently adjustiny them, lest they should be 
going backward, and not know it; and custom 
will soon take off the difficulty of this duty, and 
turn it into delight. 

In our morning retreat, it will be proper to 
remember that we cannot preserve throughout 
the day that calm and even temper we may then 
be in ; that we shall very probably meet with 
some things to ruffle us, some attack on our 



202 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

weak side. Place a guard there now. Or, how- 
ever, if no incidents happen to discompose us, 
our tempers will vary; our thoughts will flow 
pretty much with our blood ; and the disposi- 
tions of the mind be a good deal governed by 
the motions of the animal spirits ; our souls will 
be serene or cloudy, our tempers volatile or 
phlegmatic, and our inclinations sober or irregu- 
lar, according to the briskness or sluggish- 
ness of the circulation of the animal fluids, 
whatever may be the cause or immediate occa- 
sion of that, and therefore we must resolve to 
avoid all occasions that may raise any danger- 
ous ferments there, which, when once raised, 
will excite in us very different thoughts and 
dispositions from those we now have ; which, 
together with the force of a fair opportunity and 
urgent temptation, may overset our reason and 
resolution, and betray us into those sinful in- 
dulgences which will wound the conscience, 
stain the soul, and create bitter remorse in our 
cooler reflections. Pious thoughts and purposes, 
in the morning, will set a guard upon the soul, 
and fortify it under all the temptations of the day. 
But such self-inspection, however, should 
never fail to make part of our evening devotions, 
when we should review and examine the seve- 
ral actions of the day, the various tempers and 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 203 

dispositions we have been in, and the occa- 
sions that excited them. It is an advice worthy 
of a Christian, though it first dropped from a 
heathen pen, that, before we betake ourselves 
to rest, we review and examine all the passages 
of the day, that we may have the comfort of 
what we have done aright, and may redress 
what we find to have been amiss ; and make 
the shipwrecks of one day be as marks to di- 
rect our course on another ; a practice that hath 
been recommended by many of the heathen 
moralists of the greatest name, as Plutarch, 
Epictetus, Marcus Antoninus ; and particular- 
ly Pythagoras, in the verses that go under his 
name, and are called his golden verses ; # 
wherein he advises his scholars every night to 
recollect the passages of the day, and ask them- 
selves these questions: "Wherein have I trans- 

* " Let not the stealing god of sleep surprise 
Nor creep in slumbers on thy weary eyes, 
Ere ev'ry action of the former day 
Strictly thou dost, and righteously survey. 
With rev'rence at thy own tribunal stand, 
And answer justly to thy own demand. 
Where have I been ? In what have I transgress'd ? 
What good or ill has this day's life express'd ? 
Where have I fail'd in what I ought to do ? 
In what to God, to man, or to myself, I owe ? 
Inquire severe whate'er from first to last, 
From morning's dawn 'till evening's gloom has past. 



204 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

gressed this day ? what have I done 1 what 
duty have I omitted ?" &c. Seneca recom- 
mends the same practice. " Sectius," saith 
he, " did this : at the close of the day, before 
he betook himself to rest, he addressed his soul 
in the following manner, — What evil of thine 
hast thou cured this day 1 what vice withstood ? 
in what respect art thou better 1 Passion will 
cease, or become more cool, when it knows it 
is every day to be thus called to account. 
What can be more advantageous than this con- 
stant custom of searching through the day? — 
And the same course," saith Seneca, " I take 
myself; and every day sit in judgment on my- 
self. And at even, when all is hush and still, 
I make a scrutiny into the day ; look over my 
words and actions, and hide nothing from my- 
self; conceal none of my mistakes through 
fear. For why should I, when I have it in my 
power to say thus 1 — This once I forgive thee, 
but see thou do so no more. In such a dis- 
pute I was too keen : do not, for the future, 
contend with ignorant men ; they will not be 



If evil were thy deeds, repenting mourn, 
And let thy soul with strong remorse be torn. 
If good, the good with peace of mind repay, 
And to thy secret self with pleasure say, 
Rejoice, my heart, for all went well to-day." 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 205 

convinced, because they are unwilling to show 
their ignorance. Such a one I reproved with too 
much freedom, whereby I have not reformed, 
but exasperated him : remember hereafter to be 
more mild in your censures ; and consider not 
only whether what you say be true, but whether 
the person you say it to can bear to hear the 
truth. "—Seneca, de Ira., lib. iii, cap. 36. Thus 
far that excellent moralist. 

Let us take a few other specimens of a more 
pious and Christian turn, from a judicious and 
devout writer. 

"This morning when I arose, instead of ap- 
plying myself to God in prayer, (which I gene- 
rally find it best to do immediately after a few 
serious reflections,) I gave way to idle musing, 
to the great disorder of my heart and frame. 
How often have I suffered for want of more 
watchfulness on this occasion ! When shall I 
be wise ? I have this day shamefully trifled 
almost through the whole of it ; was in my bed 
when I should have been upon my knees ; pray- 
ed but coolly in the morning ; was strangely 
off my guard in the business and conversation 
I was concerned with in the day, particularly 

at ; I indulged to very foolish, sinful, vile 

thoughts, &c. I fell in with a strain of conversa- 
tion too common among all sorts, namely, speak- 



206 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

ing evil of others ; taking up a reproach against 
my neighbour. I have often resolved against 
this sin, and yet run into it again. How treach- 
erous this wicked heart of mine ! I have lost 
several hours this day in mere sauntering and 
idleness. This day I had an instance of mine 
own infirmity, that I was a little surprised at, 
and I am sure I ought to be humbled for. The 

behaviour of , from whom I can expect 

nothing but humour, indiscretion, and folly, 
strangely ruffled me ; and that after I have had 
warning over and over again. What a poor, 
impotent, contemptible creature am I ! This 
day I have been kept, in a great measure, from 
my too frequent failings. I had this day very 
comfortable assistances from God, upon an oc- 
casion not a littly trying — what shall I render ?" 
— Bennetts Christ. Orat. 

(3.) See that the mind be in the most com- 
posed and disengaged frame it can, when you 
enter upon this business of self-judgment. 
Choose a time when it is most free from pas- 
sion, and most at leisure from the cares and 
affairs of life. A judge is not like to bring a 
cause to a good issue, that is either intoxicated 
with liquor on the bench, or has his mind dis- 
tracted with other cares, when he should be in- 
tent on the trial. Remember you sit in judg- 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 207 

inent upon yourself, and have nothing to do at 
present but to sift the evidence which con- 
science may bring in either for or against you, 
in order to pronounce a just sentence, which is 
of much greater concernment to you at present 
than any thing else can be ; and therefore it 
should be transacted with the utmost care, com- 
posure, and attention. 

(4.) Beware of partiality, and the influence 
of self-love, in this weighty business ; which, 
if you do not guard against it, will soon lead 
you into self-delusion, the consequences of 
which may be fatal to you. Labour to see your- 
self as you are ; and view things in the light in 
which they are, and not in that in which you 
would have them be. Remember, that the mind 
is always apt to believe those things true, which 
it would have be so ; and backward to believe 
those things true, which it wishes were not so ; 
and this is an influence you will certainly lie 
under in this affair of self-judgment. 

You need not be much afraid of being too 
severe upon yourself; your great danger will 
generally be, passing a too favourable judgment. 
A judge ought not, indeed, to be a party con- 
cerned, and should have no interest in the per- 
son he sits in judgment upon. But this cannot 
be the case here, as you yourself are both judge 



208 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

and criminal, which shows the danger of pro- 
nouncing a too favourable sentence. But re- 
member your business is only with the evidence 
and the rule of judgment ; and that, however 
you come off now, there will be a rehearing in 
another court, where judgment will be accord- 
ing to truth. 

" However, look not unequally, either at the 
good or evil that is in you, but view them as 
they are. If you observe only the good that is 
in you, and overlook the bad, or search only 
after your faults, and overlook your graces, 
neither of these will bring you to a true ac- 
quaintance with yourself." — Baxter's Director. 

And to induce you to this impartiality, re- 
member that this business (though it may be 
hid from the world) is not done in secret. God 
sees how you manage it, before whose tribunal 
you must expect a righteous judgment. " We 
should order our thoughts so," saith Seneca, 
"as if we had a window in our breasts, through 
which any one might see what passes there. 
And indeed there is one that does ; for what 
does it signify that our thoughts are hid from 
men? From God nothing is hid." — Seneca's 
Epist. 84. 

(5.) Beware of false rules of judgment. This 
is a sure and common way to self-deception. 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 209 

For example : Some judge themselves by what 
they have been. But it does not follow, if men 
are not so bad as they have been, that therefore 
they are as good as they should be. It is wrong 
to make our past conduct implicitly the measure 
of our present ; or our present the rule of our 
future ; when our past, present, and future con- 
duct must all be brought to another rule. And 
they who thus " measure themselves by them- 
selves, and compare themselves with them- 
selves, are not wise," 2 Cor. x, 12. Again, 
others are apt to judge of themselves by the 
opinions of men, which is the most uncertain 
rule that can be ; for in that very opinion of 
theirs you may be deceived. How do you 
know they have really so good an opinion of 
you as they profess ? but if they have, have not 
others as bad ? and why should not the opinion 
of these be your rule as well as the opinion of 
those ? Appeal to self-flattery for an answer. 
However, neither one nor the other of them, 
perhaps, appear to know themselves, and how 
should they know you ? How is it possible they 
should have opportunities of knowing you bet- 
ter than you know yourself? A man can never 
gain a right knowledge of himself from the 
opinion of others, which is so various, and 
generally so ill-founded; for men commonly 
14 



210 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

judge by outward appearances, or inward pre- 
judice, and therefore, for the most part, think 
and speak of us very much at random. Again, 
others are for judging of themselves by the 
conduct of their superiors, who have opportuni- 
ties and advantages of knowing, acting, and 
being better ; and yet, without vanity be it 
spoken, say they, we are not behindhand with 
them. But what then 1 Neither they nor you, 
perhaps, are what the obligations of your cha- 
racter indispensably require you to be, and what 
you must be, ere you can be happy. But con- 
sider how easily this argument may be turned 
upon you : you are better than some, you say, 
who have greater opportunities and advantages 
of being good than you have, and therefore your 
state is safe ; but you yourself have greater 
opportunities and advantages of being good than 
some others have, who are, nevertheless, better 
than you ; and therefore, by the same rule, your 
state cannot be safe. Again, others judge of 
themselves by the common maxims of the vulgar 
world concerning honour and honesty, virtue 
and interest, which maxims, though generally 
very corrupt, and very contrary to those of 
reason, conscience, and Scripture, men will 
follow as a rule, for the sake of the latitude it 
allows them ; and fondly think, that, if they 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 211 

stand right in the opinion of the lowest kind of 
men, they have no reason to be severe upon 
themselves. Others, whose sentiments are more 
delicate and refined, they imagine, may be mis- 
taken, or may overstrain the matter. In which 
persuasion they are confirmed, by observing 
how seldom the consciences of the generality 
of men smite them for those things which these 
nice judges condemn as heinous crimes. I need 
not say how false and pernicious a rule this 
is. Again, others may judge of themselves and 
their state by sudden impressions they have 
had, or strong impulses upon their spirits, which 
they attribute to the finger of God ; and by 
which they have been so exceedingly affected, 
as to make no doubt but that it was the instant 
of their conversion : but whether it was or not, 
can never be known but by the conduct of their 
after lives. In like manner, others judge of 
their good state by their good frames, though 
very rare it may be, and very transient, soon 
passing off " like a morning cloud, or as the 
early dew." "But we should not judge of 
ourselves by that which is unusual or extraordi- 
nary with us, but by the ordinary tenor and 
drift of our lives. A bad man may seem good 
in some good mood, and a good man may seem 
bad in some extraordinary falls. To judge of 



212 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

a bad man by his best hours, and a good man 
by his worst, is the way to be deceived in them 
both." — Baxter's Director. 

And the same way may you be deceived in 
yourself. Pharaoh, Ahab, Herod, and Felix 
had all of them their softenings, their transiton 
fits of goodness : but yet they remain upon re • 
cord under the blackest characters. 

These, then, are all the wrong rules of judg 
ment ; and to trust to them, or try ourselves by 
them, leads to fatal self-deception. Again, 

(6.) In the business of self-examination, you 
must not only take care you do not judge by 
wrong rules, but that you do not judge wrong by 
right rules. You must endeavour, then, to be 
well acquainted with them. The office of a judge 
is not only to collect the evidence and the 
circumstances of facts, but to be well skilled 
in the laws by which those facts are to be 
examined. 

Now, the only right rules by which we are 
to examine, in order to know ourselves, are 
reason and Scripture. Some are for setting- 
aside these rules, as too severe for them, too 
stiff to bend to their perverseness, too straight 
to measure their crooked ways ; are against 
reason, when reason is against them ; decrying 
it as carnal reason ; and, for the same cause, 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 213 

are against Scripture too. depreciating it as a 
dead letter. And thus, rather than be con- 
vinced they are wrong, they despise the only 
means that can set them right. 

And as some are for setting aside each part 
of their rules, so others are for setting them one 
against the other; reason against Scripture, and 
Scripture against reason ; when they are both 
given us by the God of our natures, not only as 
perfectly consistent, but as proper to explain 
and illustrate each other, and prevent our mis- 
taking either ; and to be, when taken together, 
(as they always should,) the most complete and 
only rule by which to judge both of ourselves, 
and every thing belonging to our salvation, as 
reasonable and fallen creatures. 

(1.) Then, one part of that rule, which God 
hath given us to judge of ourselves by, is right 
reason : by which I do not mean the reasoning 
of any particular man, which may be very dif- 
ferent from the reasoning of another particular 
man, and both, it may be, very different from 
right reason ; because both may be influenced, 
not so much by the reason and nature of things, 
as by partial prepossessions and the power of 
passions : but, by right reason I mean those 
common principles which are readily allowed 
by all who are capable of understanding them, 



214 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

and not notoriously perverted by the power of 
prejudice, and which are confirmed by the com- 
mon consent of all the sober and thinking part 
of mankind, and may be easily learned by the 
light of nature. Therefore, if any doctrine or 
practice, though supposed to be founded in, or 
countenanced by, revelation, be nevertheless 
apparently repugnant to these dictates of right 
reason, or evidently contradict our natural no- 
tions of the divine attributes, or weaken our 
obligations to universal virtue, that, we may be 
sure, is no part of revelation, because then one 
part of our rule would clash with, and be oppo- 
site to, the other. And thus reason was de- 
signed to be our guard against a wild and extra- 
vagant construction of Scripture. 

(2.) The other part of our rule is the sacred 
Scriptures, which we are to use as our guard 
against the licentious excursions of fancy, 
which is often imposing itself upon us for 
right reason. Let any religious scheme or no- 
tion, then, appear ever so pleasing or plausible, 
if it be not established on the plain principles 
of Scripture, it is forthwith to be discarded ; 
and that sense of Scripture that is violently 
forced to bend toward it, is very much to be 
suspected. 

It must be very surprising to one who reads 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 215 

and studies the sacred Scriptures with a free 
unbiased mind, to see what elaborate, fine-spun, 
and flimsy glosses men will invent and put up- 
on some texts as the true and genuine sense 
of them, for no other reason, but because it is 
most agreeable to the opinion of their party, 
from which, as the standard of their orthodoxy, 
they durst never depart ; who, if they were to 
write a critique, in the same manner, on any 
Greek or Latin author, would make themselves 
extremely ridiculous in the eyes of the learned 
world. But, if we would not pervert our rule, 
we must learn to think as Scripture speaks, and 
not compel that to speak as we think. Would 
we know ourselves, then, we must often view 
ourselves in the glass of God's word ; and 
when we have taken a full survey of ourselves 
from thence, let us not soon forget " what man- 
ner of persons we are," James i, 23, 24. If 
our own image do not please us, let us not 
quarrel with our mirror, but set about mending 
ourselves. 

The eye of the mind, indeed, is not like that 
of the body, which can see every thing else 
but itself; for the eye of the mind can turn it- 
self inward, and survey itself. However, it 
must be owned, it can see itself much better 
when its own image is reflected upon it from 



216 SEUM09 111 

this mirror. And it is by this only that we can 
come at the bottom of our hearts, and discover 
: - indices and carnal preposses- 
sions which self-love would hide from us. 

This, then, is the first thing we must do in 
order to self-knowledge. We must examine, 
scrutinize, and judge ourselves diligently, lei- 
surely, frequently, and impartially : and that not 
by the false maxims of the world, but by the 
rules which God hath given us. reason and 
Scripture : and take care to understand those 
rules, and not set them at variance. T 
important step to self-knowledge is the subjec: 
of tr : ing chapter. 



CHAPTER II. 
Constant watchfulness necessary to self-knowledge. 

II. "Would we know ourselves, we must 
be very watchful over our hearts and 1: 

(1.) We must keep a vigilant eye upon our 
rts, thai is, : inclinations, and 

passion?. A more necessary piece of advice 
we cannot p. in order cquaint- 

ance, than that which Solomon g: rov. 

iv. 23. ;; Keep your heart with all diligence." or, 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 217 

as it is in the original, " above all keeping." 
As if it were said, Whatever you neglect or 
overlook, be sure you mind your heart.* Nar- 
rowly observe all its inclinations and aversions, 
all its motions and affections, together with the 
several objects and occasions which excite 
them. And this precept is enforced with two 
very urgent reasons in Scripture. The first is, 
because " out of it are the issues of life." That 
is, as our heart is, so will the tenor of our life 
and conduct be. As is the fountain, so are the 
streams ; as is the root, so is the fruit. Matt, 
vii, 18. And the other is, because " it is de- 
ceitful above all things," Jer. xvii, 9. And, 
therefore, without a constant guard upon it, we 
shall insensibly run into many hurtful self-de- 
ceptions. To which I may add, that, without 
this careful keeping of the heart, we shall never 
be able to acquire any considerable degree of 
self-acquaintance or self-government. 

(2.) To know ourselves, we must watch our 
life and conduct, as well as our hearts : and, 
by this, the heart will be better known ; as the 
root is best known by the fruit. We must at- 
tend to the nature and consequences of every 
action we are disposed or solicited to, before 

* Parallel to this advice of the royal preacher is that of M. 
A.urelms : " Look within ; for within is the fountain of trood " 



218 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

we comply ; and consider how it will appear in 
an impartial review. We are apt enough to 
observe and watch the conduct of others ; a 
wise man will be as critical and as severe upon 
his own : for indeed we have a great deal more 
to do with our own conduct than other men's ; 
as we are to answer for our own, but not for 
theirs. By observing the conduct of other men, 
we know them ; by carefully observing our own, 
we must know ourselves. 



CHAPTER III. 

We should have some regard to the opinions of others con- 
cerning us, particularly of our enemies. 

III. " Would we know ourselves, we should 
not altogether neglect the opinion which others 
have of us, or the things they may say of us." 

Not that we need be very solicitous about 
the censure or applause of the world, which is 
generally very rash and wrong, according to the 
particular humours and prepossessions of men ; 
and a man that knows himself will soon know 
how to despise them both. " The judgment 
which the world makes of us, is generally of 
no manner of use to us ; it adds nothing to our 
souls or bodies, nor lessens any of our miseries. 



^SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 219 

Let us constantly follow reason," says Mon- 
taigne, " and let the public approbation follow us 
the same way if it pleases." 

But still, I say, a total indifference in this 
matter is unwise. We ought not to be entirely 
insensible to the reports of others ; no, not to 
the railings of an enemy ; for an enemy may 
say something out of ill-will to us, which it 
may concern us to think of coolly when we are 
by ourselves ; to examine whether the accusa- 
tion be just, and what there is in our conduct 
and temper which may make it appear so. 
And by this means our enemy may do us more 
good than he intended, and be an occasion of 
discovering something of our hearts to us, which 
we did not know before. A man that hath no 
enemies, ought to have very faithful friends ; and 
one who hath no such friends, ought to think 
it no calamity that he hath enemies to be his 
effectual monitors. " Our friends," says Mr. 
Addison, " very often flatter us as much as our 
own hearts. They either do not see our faults, 
or conceal them from us ; or soften them by 
their representations, after such a manner, that 
we think them too trivial to be taken notice of. 
An adversary, on the contrary, makes a strictei 
search into us, discovers every flaw and imper- 
fection in our tempers ; and, though his malice 



220 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

may set them in too strong a light, it has gene- 
rally some ground for what it advances. A 
friend exaggerates a man's virtues ; an enemy 
inflames his crimes. A wise man should give 
a just attention to both of them, so far as it may 
tend to the improvement of the one, and the 
diminution of the other. Plutarch has written 
an essay on the benefits which a man may re- 
ceive from his enemies ; and among the good 
fruits of enmity, mentions this in particular, 
that, by the reproaches it casts upon us, we see 
the worst side of ourselves, and open our eyes 
to several blemishes and defects in our lives 
and conversations, which we should not have 
observed without the help of such ill-natured 
monitors. 

" In order, likewise, to come at a true know- 
ledge of ourselves, we should consider, on the 
other hand, how far we may deserve the praises 
and approbation which the world bestow upon 
us ; whether the actions they celebrate proceed 
from laudable and worthy motives, and how far 
we are really possessed of the virtues which 
gain us applause among those with whom we 
converse. Such a reflection is absolutely ne- 
cessary, if we consider how apt we are either 
to value or condemn ourselves by the opinions 
of others, and to sacrifice the report of our 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 221 

own hearts to the judgment of the world."'* — 
Spectator, vol. vi, No. 399. 

* In that treatise of Plutarch, here referred to, there are a 
great many excellent things pertinent to this subject ; and 
therefore I thought it not improper to throw a few extracts out 
of it into the margin. 

" The foolish and inconsiderate spoil the very friendships 
they are engaged in ; but the wise and prudent make good use 
of the hatred and enmity of men against them. 

" Why should we not take an enemy for our tutor, who will 
instruct us gratis in those things we knew not before ? For 
an enemy sees and understands more in matters relating to 
us than our friends do. Because love is blind ; but spite, ma- 
lice, ill-will, wrath, and contempt talk much, are very inquisi- 
tive and quick-sighted. 

' : Our enemy, to gratify his ill-wili toward us, acquaints 
himself with the infirmities both of our bodies and minds ; 
sticks to our faults, and makes his invidious remarks upon 
them, and spreads them abroad by his uncharitable and ill-na- 
tured reports. Hence we are taught this useful lesson for the 
direction and management of our conversation in the world, 
namely, that we be circumspect and wary in every thing we 
speak or do, as if our enemy always stood at our elbow, and 
overlooked our actions. 

" Those persons whom that wisdom hath brought to live so- 
berly, which the fear and awe of enemies hath infused, are by 
degrees drawn into a habit of living so, and are composed and 
fixed in their obedience to virtue by custom and use. 

" When Diogenes was asked how he might be avenged of 
his enemies, he replied, To be yourself a good and honest man. 

" Antisthenes spake incomparably well ; ' that if a man 
would live a safe and unblameable life, it was necessary that 
he should have very ingenuous and faithful friends, or very 
bad enemies ; because the first by their kind admonitions 
would keep him from sinning, the latter by their invectives ' 



222 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

It is the character of a very dissolute mind, 
to be entirely insensible to all that the world 
says of us; and shows such a confidence of 

" He that hath no friend to give him advice or reprove him 
when he does amiss, must bear patiently the rebukes of his 
enemies, and thereby learn to mend the errors of his ways ; 
and consider seriously the object which these severe censures 
aim at, and not what he is who makes them. For he who 
designed the death of Promotheus the Thessalian, instead of 
giving him a fatal blow, only opened a swelling which he had, 
which did really save his life. Just so may the harsh repre- 
hensions of enemies cure some distempers of the mind, which 
were before either not known or neglected ; though their angry 
speeches do originally proceed from malice or ill-will. 

" If any man with opprobrious language objects to you crimes 
you know nothing of, you ought to inquire into the causes or 
reasons of such false accusations ; whereby you may learn to 
take heed for the future, lest you should unwarily commit 
those offences which are unjustly imputed to you. 

" Whenever any thing is spoken against you that is not 
true, do not pass it by, nor despise it because it is false ; but 
forthwith examine yourself, and consider what you have said 
or done that may administer a just occasion of reproof. 

" Nothing can be a greater instance of wisdom and humani- 
ty, than for a man to bear silently and quietly the follies and 
revilings of an enemy ; taking as much care not to provoke 
him, as he would to sail safely by a dangerous rock. 

" It is an eminent piece of humanity, and a manifest token 
of a nature generally generous, to put up with the affronts of 
an enemy at a time when you have a fair opportunity to re- 
venge them. 

"Let us carefully observe those good qualities wherein 
our enemies excel us ; and endeavour to excel them, by 
avoiding what is faulty, ar ' imitating what is excellent in 
them." 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 223 

self-knowledge, as is usually a sure sign of self- 
ignorance. The most knowing minds are ever 
least presumptuous. And true self-knowledge is 
a science of so much depth and difficulty, that a 
wise man would not choose to be over confident 
that all his notions of himself are right, in oppo- 
sition to the judgment of all mankind ; some of 
whom, perhaps, have better opportunities and 
advantages of knowing him (at some seasons 
especially) than he has of knowing himself ; 
because they never look through the same false 
medium of self-flattery. 



CHAPTER IV. 

Frequent converse with superiors a help to self-knowledge. 

IV. " Another proper means of self-know- 
ledge is to converse as much as you can with 
those who are your superiors in real excel- 
lence." 

" He that walketh with wise men, shall be 
wise," Prov. xiii, 20. Their example will not 
only be your motive to laudable pursuits, but a 
mirror to your mind, by which you may possi- 
bly discern some failings, or deficiencies, or 
neglects, in yourself, which before escaped you 



224 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

You will see the unreasonableness of your 
vanity and self-sufficiency, when you observe 
how much you are surpassed by others in 
knowledge and goodness. Their proficiency 
will make your defects the more obvious to 
you. And, by the lustre of their virtues, you 
will better see the deformity of your vices ; 
your negligence by their diligence ; your pride 
by their humility ; your passion by their meek- 
ness ; and your folly by their wisdom. 

Examples not only move, but teach and di- 
rect much more effectually than precepts ; and 
show us, not only that such virtues may be 
practised, but how ; and how lovely they ap- 
pear when they are. And, therefore, if we 
cannot have them always before our eyes, we 
should endeavour to have them always in our 
mind ; and especially that of our great Head 
and Pattern, who hath set us a lovely example 
of the most innocent conduct, under the worst 
and most disadvantageous circumstances of 
human life. 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 225 



CHAPTER V. 

Of cultivating such a temper as will be the best disposition to 
self-knowledge. 

V. " If a man would know himself, he must, 
with great care, cultivate that temper which 
will best dispose him to receive this know- 
ledge." 

Now, as there are no greater hinderances to 
self-knowledge than pride and obstinacy, so 
there is nothing more helpful to it than humili- 
ty and an openness to conviction. 

(1.) One who is in quest of self-knowledge, 
must, above all things, seek humility. And how 
near an affinity there is between these two, ap- 
pears from hence, that they are both acquired 
the same way. The very means of attaining 
humility are the properest means for attaining 
self-knowledge. By keeping an eye every day 
upon our faults and wants, we become more hum- 
ble ; and, by the same means, we become more 
self-knowing. By considering how far we fall 
short of our rule and our duty, and how vastly 
others exceed us, and especially by a daily 
and diligent study of the word of God, we come 
to have meaner thoughts of ourselves ; and, by 
15 



226 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

the very same means, we come to have a better 
acquaintance with ourselves. 

A proud man cannot know himself. Pride 
is that beam in the eye of his mind which ren- 
ders him quite blind to any blemishes there. 
Hence, nothing is a surer sign of self-ignorance 
than vanity and ostentation. 

Indeed, true self-knowledge and humility are 
so necessarily connected, that they depend 
upon, and mutually beget, each other. A man 
that knows himself, knows the worst of him- 
self, and therefore cannot but be humble ; and 
an humble mind is frequently contemplating its 
own faults and weaknesses, which greatly im- 
proves it in self-knowledge. So that self-ac- 
quaintance makes a man humble ; and humility 
gives him still a better acquaintance with himself. 

(2.) An openness to conviction is no less 
necessary to self-knowledge than humility. 

As nothing is a greater bar to true knowledge 
than an obstinate stiffness in opinion, and a fear 
to depart from old notions, which (before we 
were capable of judging perhaps) we had long 
taken up for the truth, so nothing is a greater 
bar to self-knowledge than a strong aversion to 
part with those sentiments of ourselves which 
we have been blindly accustomed to, and to 
think worse of ourselves than we are used= 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 227 

And such an unwillingness to retract our sen- 
timents, in both cases, proceeds from the same 
cause, namely, a reluctance to self-condemna- 
tion. For he that takes up a new way of think- 
ing, contrary to that which he hath long re- 
ceived, therein condemns himself of having 
lived in an error ; and he that begins to see 
faults in himself he never saw before, con- 
demns himself of having lived in ignorance and 
sin. Now this is an ungrateful business, and 
what self-flattery gives us a strong aversion to. 

But such an inflexibility of judgment, and 
hatred of conviction, is a very unhappy and 
hurtful turn of mind ; and a man that is re- 
solved never to be in the wrong, is in a fair 
way never to be in the right. 

As infallibility is no privilege of the human 
nature, it is no diminution to a man's good 
sense or judgment to be found in an error, pro- 
vided he is willing to retract it. He acts with 
the same freedom and liberty as before ; who- 
ever be his monitor, it is his own good sense 
and judgment that still guide him ; which 
shine to great advantage in thus directing him 
against the bias of vanity and self-opinion. And 
in thus changing his sentiments, he only ac- 
knowledges that he is not, what no man ever 
was, incapable of being mistaken. In short, it 



228 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

is more merit, and an argument of a more ex- 
cellent mind, for a man freely to retract when 
he is in the wrong, than to be overbearing and 
positive when he is in the right. * 

A man, then, must be willing to know him- 
self, before he can know himself. He must 
open his eyes, if he desires to see ;. yield to 
evidence and conviction, though it be at the 
expense of his judgment, and to the mortifica- 
tion of his vanity. 



CHAPTER VI. 

To be sensible of our false knowledge, a good step to self- 
knowledge. 

VI. " Would you know yourself, take heed 
and guard against false knowledge." 

See that the " light that is within you be not 
darkness ;" that your favourite and leading 
principles be right. Search your furniture, and 
see what you have to unlearn. For oftentimes 
here is as much wisdom in casting off some 
knowledge which we have, as in acquiring that 

* " If any one can convince me that I am wrong in any 
)oint of sentiment or practice, I will alter it with all my heart. 
For it is truth I seek ; and that can hurt nobody. It is only 
oersisting in error or ignorance that can hurt us." — M. Aurelius 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 229 

which we have not ; which, perhaps, was what 
made Themistocles reply, when one offered to 
teach him the art of memory, that " he had 
much rather he would teach him the art of for- 
getfulness." 

A scholar, that hath been all his life collect- 
ing of books, will find in his library, at last, a 
great deal of rubbish ; and, as his taste alters, 
and his judgment improves, he will throw out a 
great many as trash and lumber, which, it may 
be, he once valued and paid dear for, and replace 
them with such as are more solid and useful. 
Just so should we deal with our understand- 
ings ; look oVer the furniture of the mind ; se- 
parate the chaff from the wheat, which are 
generally received into it together ; and take as 
much pains to forget what we ought not to have 
learned, as to retain what we ought not to for- 
get. To read froth and trifles all our life, is 
the way always to retain a flashy and juvenile 
turn ; and only to contemplate our first (which 
is generally our worst) knowledge, cramps the 
progress of the understanding, and is a great 
hinderance to a true self-knowledge. In short, 
would we improve the understanding to the 
valuable purposes of self-knowledge, we must 
take as much care what books we read, as what 
company we keep. 



230 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

" The pains we take in books or arts, which 
treat of things remote from the use of life, is a 
busy idleness. If I study," says Montaigne, " it 
is for no other science than what treats of 
the knowledge of myself, and instructs me how 
to live and die well." — Rule of Life. 

It is a comfortless speculation, and a plain 
proof of the imperfection of the human under- 
standing, that, upon a narrow scrutiny into our 
furniture, we observe a great many things which 
we think we know, but do not ; and a great 
many things which we do know, but ought not ; 
that of the knowledge which we have been all 
our lives collecting, a good deal-of it is mere 
ignorance, and a good deal of it worse than 
ignorance ; to be sensible of which, is a very 
necessary step to self-acquaintance. See part i, 
chapter xiii. 



CHAPTER VII. 

Self-inspection peculiarly necessaiy upon some particular 
occasions. 

VII. " Would you know yourself, you must 
very carefully attend to the frame and emotions 
of your mind under some particular incidents 
and occasions," 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 231 

Some sudden accidents which befall you 
when the mind is most off its guard, will better 
discover its secret turn and prevailing disposi- 
tion, than much greater events you are pre- 
pared for. For example, — 

(1.) Consider how you behave under any 
sudden affronts or provocations from men. " A 
fool's wrath is presently known," (Prov. xii, 
16,) that is, a fool is presently known by his 
wrath. 

If your anger be soon kindled, it is a sign 
that secret pride lies lurking in the heart, which, 
like gunpowder, takes fire at every spark of 
provocation that lights upon it. For whatever 
may be owing to a natural temper, it is certain 
that pride is the chief cause of frequent and 
wrathful resentments : for pride and anger are 
as nearly allied as humility and meekness. 
" Only by pride cometh contention," Prov. xiii, 
10. And a man would not know what mud lay 
at the bottom of his heart, if provocation did not 
stir it up. 

Athenodorus, the philosopher, by reason of 
his old age, begged leave to retire from the 
court of Augustus, which the emperor granted 
him ; and as Athenodorus was taking his leave 
of him, " Remember," said he, " Cesar, when- 
ever you are angry, yon say or do nothing be- 



232 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

fore you have repeated the four-and-twenty let- 
ters of the alphabet to yourself." Whereupon 
Cesar, catching him by the hand, " I have need," 
says he, " of your presence still ;" and kept 
him a year longer. This is celebrated by the 
ancients as a rule of excellent wisdom. But a 
Christian may prescribe to himself a much 
wiser, namely, " When you are angry, answer 
not till you have repeated the fifth petition of 
the Lord's prayer, ' Forgive us our trespasses, 
as we forgive them that trespass against us ;' 
and our Saviour's comment upon it, ' For if ye 
forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly 
Father will also forgive you : but if ye forgive 
not men their trespasses, neither will your 
Father forgive your trespasses.' " Matthew vi, 
14, 15, 

It is a just and seasonable thought of Mar- 
cus Antoninus, upon such occasions : " A man 
misbehaves himself toward me — what is that 
to me ? The action is his ; and the will that 
sets him upon it is his ; and therefore let him 
look to it. The fault and injury is his, not 
mine. As for me, I am in the condition Provi- 
dence would have me, and am doing what be- 
comes me." — Meditations, book v, § 25. 

But still this amounts only to a philosophical 
contempt of injuries, and falls much beneath a 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 233 

Christian forgiveness of them ; which, as Chris- 
tians, we are bound to, and which, if we know 
ourselves, we shall be disposed to. And there- 
fore, in order to a true self-knowledge, we 
must always take care to examine and observe 
in what manner we are affected in such cir- 
cumstances. 

(2.) How do you behave under a severe and 
unexpected affliction from the hand of Provi- 
dence ? which is another circumstance, which, 
when rightly improved, will help us very much 
to know ourselves. 

If there be any habitual discontent or impa- 
tience lurking within us, this will draw it forth, 
especially if the affliction be attended with any 
of those aggravating circumstances with which 
Job's was. 

Afflictions are often sent with this intent, to 
teach us to know ourselves ; and, therefore, 
ought to be carefully improved to this pur- 
pose. 

And much of the wisdom and goodness of 
our heavenly Father is seen by a serious and 
attentive mind, not only in proportioning the 
degrees of his corrections to his children's 
strength, but in adapting the kinds of them to 
their tempers ; afflicting one in one way, another 
in another, according as he knows they are 



234 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

most easily wrought upon, and as will be most 
for their advantage : by which means a slight 
affliction of one kind may as deeply affect us, 
and procure as great an advantage to us, as a 
much greater of another kind. 

It is a trite but true observation, that a wise 
man receives more benefit from his enemies 
than from his friends, from his afflictions than 
from his mercies ; by which means he makes 
his enemies in effect his best friends, and his 
afflictions his greatest mercies. Certain it is, 
that a man never has an opportunity of taking 
a more fair and undisguised view of himself 
than in these circumstances ; and therefore, by 
diligently observing in what manner he is 
affected at such times, he may make an im- 
provement in the true knowledge of himself, 
very much to his future advantage, though per- 
haps not a little to his present mortification ; 
for a sudden provocation from man, or severe 
affliction from God, may detect something 
which lay latent and undiscovered so long at 
the bottom of his heart, that he never once 
suspected it to have had anyplace there. Thus 
the one excited wrath in the meekest man, 
(Psa. cvi, 33,) and the other passion in the most 
patient. Job iii, 3. 

By considering, then, in what manner we bear 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 235 

the particular afflictions God is pleased to allot 
us, and what benefit we receive from them, we 
may come to a very considerable acquaintance 
with ourselves. 

(3.) In a time of peace, prosperity, and plea- 
sure, when the soul is generally most unguarded, 
what is its temper and disposition then ? 

This is the warm season that nourishes and 
impregnates the seeds of vanity, self-confidence, 
and a supercilious contempt of others. If there 
be such a root of bitterness in the heart, it will 
be very apt to shoot forth in the sunshine of 
uninterrupted prosperity, even after the frost of 
adversity had. nipped it, and, as we thought? 
killed it. 

Prosperity is a trial as well as adversity, 
and is commonly attended with more dangerous 
temptations. And were the mind but as seri- 
ously disposed to self-reflection, it would have 
a greater advantage of attaining a true know- 
ledge of itself under the former than under the 
latter. But the unhappiness of it is, the mind 
is seldom rightly turned for such an employ- 
ment under those circumstances. It has some- 
thing else to do ; has the concerns of the world 
to mind ; and is too much engaged by the things 
without it, to advert to those within it ; and is 
more disposed to enjoy than examine itself. 



236 SELF-KNOWLEDGE 

However, it is a very necessary season for self- 
examination, and a very proper time to acquire 
a good degree of self-knowledge, if rightly im- 
proved. 

(Lastly.) How do we behave in bad com- 
pany ? 

And that is to be reckoned bad company, in 
which there is no probability of our doing or 
getting any good, but apparent danger of our 
doing or getting much harm ; I mean, our giving 
offence to others by an indiscreet zeal, or in- 
curring guilt to ourselves by a criminal com- 
pliance. 

Are we carried down by the torrent of vanity 
and vice ? Will a flash of wit, or a brilliant 
fancy, make us excuse a profane expression ? 
If so, we shall soon come to relish it, when 
thus seasoned, and use it ourselves. This is a 
time when our zeal and wisdom, our fortitude 
and firmness, are generally put to the most 
delicate proof, and when we may too often take 
notice of the unsuspected escapes of folly, fic- 
kleness, and indiscretion. 

At such seasons as these, then, we may often 
discern what lies at the bottom of our hearts, 
better than we can in the more even and cus- 
tomary scenes of life, when the passions are all 
calm and still ; and therefore, would we know 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 237 

ourselves, we should be very attentive to our 
frame, temper, disposition, and conduct, upon 
such occasions. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

To know ourselves we must wholly abstract from external 
appearances. 

VIII. " Would you know yourself, you must, 
as far as possible, get above the influence of 
external appearances and circumstances." 

A man is what his heart is. The knowledge 
of himself is the knowledge of his heart, which 
is entirely an inward thing; to the knowledge 
of which, then, outward things (such as a man's 
condition and circumstances in the world) can 
contribute nothing ; but, on the other hand, if 
taken into any consideration, will be a great 
bar and hinderance to him in his pursuit of self- 
knowledge. 

(1.) Are your circumstances in the world 
easy and prosperous, take care you do not judge 
of yourself too favourably on that account. 

These things are without you, and therefore 
can never be the measure of what is within 
you ; and however the world may respect you 
for them, they do not in the least make you 
either a wiser or more valuable man. 



238 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

In forming a true judgment of yourself, then, 
you must entirely set aside the consideration 
of your estate and family, your wit, beauty, 
genius, health, &c, which are all but the ap- 
pendages or trappings of a man, or a smooth 
and shining varnish, which may lacker over 
the basest metal. 

A man may be a good and happy man with- 
out these things, and a bad and wretched one 
with them. Nay, he may have all these, and 
be the worse for them. They are so far from 
being good and excellent in themselves, that 
we often see Providence bestows them upon the 
vilest of men, and, in kindness, denies them to 
some of the best. They often are the greatest 
temptations that can put a man's faith and firm- 
ness to the proof. Or, 

(2.) Is your condition in life mean and af- 
flicted ? Do not judge the worse of yourself 
for not having those external advantages which 
others have. 

None will think the worse of you for not 
having them, but those who think the better of 
themselves for having them : in both which 
they show a very depraved and perverted judg- 
ment. These are (ra hh ecp' Tjfuv) things en- 
tirely without us, and out of our power ; for 
which a man is neither the better nor the worse, 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 239 

but according as he uses them ; arid therefore 
you ought to be as indifferent to them as they 
are to you. A good man shines amiably through 
all the obscurity of his low fortune, and a wick- 
ed man is a poor little wretch in the midst of 
all his grandeur.* 

Were we to follow the judgment of the world, 
we should think -otherwise of these things, and 
by that mistake be led into a mistaken notion 
of ourselves. But we have a better rule to fol- 
low, to which if we adhere, the consideration 
of our external condition in life, be it what it 
will, will have no undue influence on the mind 
in its search after self-knowledge. 



CHAPTER IX. 

The practice of self-knowledge a great means to promote it. 

IX. " Let all your self-knowledge be reduced 
into practice." 

The right improvement of that knowledge 
we have, is the best way to attain more. 

The great end of self-knowledge is self- 
government, without which it is but a useless 

* " Pigmies are pigmies still, though placed in Alps : 
And pyramids are pyramids in vales." 

Night Thoughts 



240 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

speculation. And, as all knowledge is valuable 
in proportion to its end, so this is the most ex- 
cellent kind of knowledge, only because the 
practice of it is of such extensive use, as hath 
been already shown. 

" Above all other subjects," says an ancient 
pious writer, " study thine own self. For no 
knowledge that terminates in curiosity or spe- 
culation is comparable to that w T hich is of use ; 
and of all useful knowledge, that is most so 
which consists in the due care and just notions 
of ourselves. This study is a debt which every 
one owes himself. Let us not, then, be so 
lavish, so unjust, as not to pay this debt, by 
spending some part, at least, if we cannot all, 
or most, of our time and care upon that which 
has the most indefeasible claim to it. Govern 
your passions ; manage your actions with pru- 
dence ; and where false steps have been made, 
correct them for the future. Let nothing be 
allowed to grow headstrong and disorderly; but 
bring all under discipline. Set all your faults 
before your eyes ; and pass sentence upon 
yourself with the same severity as you would 
do upon another, for whom no partiality hath 
biased your judgment." — St. Bernard's Medita- 
tions, chap. v. 

What will our most exact and diligent self- 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 



241 



researches avail us, if, after all, we sink into 
indolence and sloth 1 Or what will it signify to 
be convinced, that there is a great deal amiss 
in our deportment and dispositions, if we sit 
still contentedly under that conviction, without 
taking one step toward a reformation 1 It will, 
indeed, render us but the more guilty in the 
sight of God. And how sad a thing will it be 
to have our self-knowledge hereafter rise up in 
judgment against us ! 

" Examination is in order to correction and 
amendment. We abuse it and ourselves, if we 
rest in the duty without looking further. We 
are to review our daily walk, that we may re- 
form it ; and, consequently, a daily review will 
point out to us the subject and matter of our 
future daily care. This day (saith the Chris- 
tian, upon his review of things at night) I lost 

so much time, particularly at . I took too 

great a liberty, particularly in . I omitted 

such an opportunity, that might have been 
improved to better purpose. I mismanaged 
such a duty. I find such a corruption often 
working ; my old infirmity still cleaves to me ; 
how easily doth this sin beset me ! O ! may I 
be more attentive for the time to come ; more 
watchful over my heart ; take more heed to 
my ways ! May I do so the next day ! 
16 



242 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

" The knowledge of a distemper is a good step 
to a cure : at least, it directs to proper methods 
and applications in order to it. Self-acquaint- 
ance leads to self-reformation. He that, at the 
close of each day, calls over what is past, in- 
spects himself, his behaviour and manners, will 
not fall into that security, and those uncensured 
follies that are so common and so dangerous." 
— Bennefs Christ. Or at. 

And it may not be improper, in order to make 
us sensible of, and attentive to, some of the 
more secret faults and foibles of our tempers, 
to pen them down at night, according as they 
appeared during the transactions of the day ; 
by which means we shall not only have a more 
distinct view of that part of our character, to 
which we are generally most blind, but shall 
be able to discover some defects and blemishes 
in it, which, perhaps, we never apprehended 
before. For the wiles and doublings of the 
heart are sometimes so hidden and intricate, 
that it requires the nicest care and most steady 
attention to detect and unfold them. 

For instance : " This day I read an authoi 
whose sentiments were very different from 
mine, and who expressed himself with much 
warmth and confidence. It excited my spleen, 
I own, and I immediately passed a severe cen 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 243 

sure upon him ; so that, had he been present, 
and talked in the same strain, my ruffled tem- 
per would have prompted me to use harsh and 
ungrateful language, which might have occa- 
sioned a very unchristian contention. But I 
now recollect, that, though the author might be 
mistaken in those sentiments, (as I still believe 
he was,) yet, by his particular circumstances 
in life, and the method of his education, he 
hath been strongly led into that way of think- 
ing ; so that his prejudice is pardonable ; but 
my uncharitableness is not, especially consi- 
dering, that, in many respects, he has the as- 
cendant of me. This proceeded, then, from 
uncharitableness, which is one fault of my 
temper I have to watch against ; and which I 
never was before so sensible of as I am now, 
upon this recollection. Learn more modera- 
tion, and make more allowances for the mis- 
taken opinions of others for the future. Be as 
charitable to others, who differ from you, as 
you desire they should be to you, who differ 
as much from them ; for it may be, you cannot 
be more assured of being in the right than they 
are. 

"Again: this day I have found myself 
strongly inclined to put in something by way 
of abatement to an excellent character given of 



244 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

an absent person by one of his great admirers. 
It is true I had the command of myself to hold 
my tongue, and it is well I had : for the ardour 
of his zeal would not have admitted the excep- 
tion, (though I still think that, in some degree, 
it was just,) which might have raised a wrang- 
ling debate about his character, perhaps at the 
expense of my own ; or, however, occasioned 
much animosity and contention. But I have 
since examined the secret spring of that im- 
pulse, and find it to be envy, which I was not 
then sensible of; but my antagonist had cer- 
tainly imputed it to this : and had he taken the 
liberty to have told me so, I much question 
whether I should have had the temper of the 
philosopher, who, when he was really injured, 
being asked whether he was angry or no, re- 
plied, ' No ; but I am considering with myself 
whether I ought not to be so.' I doubt I should 
not have had so much composure, but should 
have immediately resented it as a false and 
malicious aspersion. But it was certainly envy, 
and nothing else ; for the person who was the 
object of the encomium was much my superior 
in many respects. And the exception that 
arose to my mind was the only flaw in his cha- 
racter, which nothing but a quick-sighted envy 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 245 

could descry. Take heed, then, of that vice for 
the future. 

" Again, this day I was much surprised to 
observe in myself the symptoms of a vice, 
which, of all others, I ever thought myself most 
clear of, and have always expressed the great- 
est detestation of in others ; and that is covet- 
ousness. For what else could it be that 
prompted me to withhold my charity from my 
fellow-creature in distress, on pretence that he 
was not, in every respect, a proper object ; or, 
to dispense it so sparingly to another, who I 
knew was so, on pretence of having lately been 
at a considerable expense upon another occa- 
sion 1 This could proceed from nothing else 
but a latent principle of covetousness ; which, 
though I never before observed in myself, yet 
it is likely others have. O how inscrutable 
are the depths and deceits of the human heart ! 
Had my enemy brought against me a charge 
of indolence, self-indulgence, or pride, and im- 
patience, or a too quick resentment of affronts 
and injuries, my own heart must have confirm- 
ed the accusation, and forced me to plead 
guilty. Had he charged me with bigotry, self- 
opinion, and censoriousness, I should have 
thought it proceeded from the same temper in 



I-.: 5ii7-z:::-Li:3i 

zzzzs^'.:. z/ :zz rire.7 ::srre: 117 :l:zr L:ke 
it in my own. But had lie charged me with 
:: 7 :.:-: r-? _ =_._: . _ : t i.-iri :: ::: :. :~~- 
z : z - ' ' i - - ~- — " • =■— - 1 t 5 7 : s r 1 " 1 r 7 1 5 ".: ; e ~ : :z 
indignation and triumph. And yet, after all. I 

O! 

Tins. 

of it. 



to it ; I say ? a thorough self-a 

- : .:. t " 5r: :':: 
branches, part L For. as s 
simply impossible (I mean 
virtue) where self-ignorance 

i:~: z .-.-- ::' ;: -~ ..". ic :rf iSr :: 

irrrfr :l ~i;:i sf'.:"-i: \zizz 

Many, perhaps, maybe r 

is a paradox, and imagine tha 

j:f ::~:n::: tissi.ij 1:: :':.: 
sill zzi :: :i:;:„::'v :...zi:.:". 
2z: -:: ;:rz riir.::f "lis z>: 
1.1T5 :irv rzij z:.l .21: :ii 
r::::: :::~ ;:::: i-rff:: ::' 5: 
it is in this, as in other kinc 
wherein some are rerv read 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 247 

selves much greater proficients than they are,) 
or else from their neglect to put in practice that 
degree of self-knowledge they have. They 
know their particular failings, yet will not 
guard against the immediate temptations to 
them. And they are often betrayed into the 
immediate temptations which overcome them, 
because they are ignorant of, or do not guard 
against, the more remote temptations, which 
lead them into those which are more immediate 
and dangerous, which may not improperly be 
called the temptations to temptations ; in ob- 
serving and guarding against which consists a 
very necessary part of self-knowledge, and the 
great art of keeping clear of danger, which, in 
our present state of frailty, is the best means 
of keeping clear of sin. 

To correct what is amiss, and to improve 
what is good in us, is supposed to be our hearty 
desire, and the great end of all our self-research. 
But if we do not endeavour after this, all our 
labour after self-knowledge will be in vain ; 
nay, if we do not endeavour it, we cannot be 
said heartily to 'desire it: "For there is most 
of the heart where there is most of the will ; 
and there is most of the will where there is 
most endeavour ; and where there is most en- 
deavour there is generally most success. So 



248 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

that endeavour must prove the truth of our de- 
sire, and success will generally prove the sin- 
cerity of our endeavour." — Baxter. 

This, I think, we may safely say, without 
attributing too much to the power of the human 
will, considering that we are rational and free 
agents, and considering what effectual assist- 
ance is offered to them who seek it, to render 
heir endeavours successful, if they are sincere ; 
tvhich introduces the subject of the following 
chapter. 



CHAPTER X. 

Frequent and fervent prayer, the most effectual means for 
attaining true self-knowledge. 

" Lastly. The last means to self-knowledge 
which I shall mention is, frequent and devout 
applications to the fountain of light, and the 
Father of our spirits, to assist us in this import- 
ant study, and give us the true knowledge of 
ourselves." 

This I mention last, not as the least, but, on 
the contrary, as the greatest and best means of 
all, to attain a right and thorough knowledge 
of ourselves, and the way to render all the rest 
effectual. And, therefore, though it be the last 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 249 

means mentioned, it is the first that should be 
used. 

Would we know ourselves, we must often 
converse, not only with ourselves in meditation, 
but with God in prayer. In the lowliest pros- 
tration of soul, beseeching the Father of our 
spirits to discover them to us ; " in whose light 
we may see light," where, before, there was 
nothing but darkness, to make known to us the 
depth and devices of our heart. For, without 
the grace and influence of his divine illumina- 
tions and instructions, our hearts will, after all 
our care and pains to know them, most certain- 
ly deceive us. And self-love will so prejudice 
the understanding, as to keep us still in self- 
ignorance. 

The first thing we are to do, in order to self- 
knowledge, is, to assure ourselves, that our 
hearts " are deceitful above all things." And 
the next is, to remember, that "the Lord search- 
eth the heart, and trieth the reins," (Jer. xvii, 9,) 
that is, that he, the (KapdioyvuoTTjg) " Search- 
er of all hearts," (1 Chron. xxviii, 9,) hath a 
perfect knowledge of them, deceitful as they 
are. Which consideration, as it suggesteth to 
is the strongest motive to induce us to labour 
after a true knowledge of them ourselves, so it 
directs us, at the same time, how we may at- 



250 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

tain this knowledge, namely, by an humble and 
importunate application to him, to whom alone 
they are known, to make them known to us. 
And this, by the free and near access which his 
Holy Spirit hath to our spirits, he can effectually 
do various ways ; namely, by fixing our atten- 
tions ; by quickening our apprehensions ; re- 
moving our prejudices ; (which, like a false 
medium before the eye of the mind, prevent its 
seeing things in a just and proper light ;) by 
mortifying our pride ; strengthening the intel- 
lective and reflecting faculties ; and enforcing 
upon the mind a lively sense and knowledge of 
its greatest happiness and duty ; and so awaken- 
ing the soul from that carnal security and in- 
difference about its best interests, which a too 
serious attention to the world is apt to betray 
it into. 

Besides, prayer is a very proper expedient 
for attaining self-knowledge, as the actual en- 
gagement of the mind in this devotional exer- 
cise is, in itself, a great help to it. For the 
mind is never in a better frame than when it 
is intently and devoutly engaged in this duty. 
It has then the best apprehensions of God, the 
truest notions of itself, and the justest senti- 
ments of earthly things ; the clearest concep- 
tions of its own weakness, and the deepest 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 



251 



sense of its own vileness ; and consequently is 
in the best disposition that can be, to receive a 
true and right knowledge of itself. 

And, O ! could we but always think of our- 
selves in such a manner, or could we but al- 
ways be in a disposition to think of ourselves 
in such a manner, as we sometimes do in the 
fervour of our humiliations before the throne of 
grace, how great a progress should we soon 
make in this important science ? Which evi- 
dently shows the necessity of such devout and 
humble engagements of the soul, and how happy 
a means they are to attain a just self-acquaint- 
ance. 

And now, reader, whoever thou art, that hast 
taken the pains to peruse these sheets, what- 
ever be thy circumstances or condition in the 
world, whatever thy capacity or understanding, 
whatever thy occupations and engagements, 
whatever thy favourite sentiments and princi- 
ples, or whatever religious sect or party thou 
espousest, know for certain that thou hast been 
deeply interested in what thou hast been read- 
ing ; whether thou hast attended to it or no. 
For it is of no less concern to thee than the 
security of thy peace and usefulness in this 
world, and thy happiness in another ; and re- 



252 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

lates to all thy interests, both as a man and a 
Christian. Perhaps thou hast seen something 
of thine own image in the glass that has now 
been held up to thee ; and wilt thou go away, 
and soon " forget what manner of person thou 
art ?" Perhaps thou hast met with some things 
thou dost not well understand or approve ; but 
shall that take off thine attention from those 
things thou dost understand and approve, and 
are convinced of the necessity of? If thou hast 
received no improvement, no benefit from what 
thou hast been reading, read it over again. The 
same thought, you know, often impresses one 
more at one time than another ; and we some- 
times receive more knowledge and profit by the 
second perusal of a book than by the first. And 
I would fain hope, that thou wilt find something 
in this that may set thy thoughts on work, and 
which, by the blessing of God, may make thee 
more observant of thy heart and conduct ; and, 
m consequence of that, a more solid, serious, 
wise, established Christian. 

But will you, after all, deal by this book you 
have now read, as you have dealt by many ser- 
mons you have heard ? pass your judgment upon 
it according to your received and established set 
of notions ; and condemn or applaud it only as 
it is agreeable or disagreeable to them ; and 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 253 

commend or censure it, only as it suits or does 
not suit your particular taste ; without attending 
to the real weight, importance, and necessity of 
the subject, abstracted from those views ? Or, 
will you be barely content with the entertain- 
ment and satisfaction, which some parts of it 
may possibly have given you ; to assent to the 
importance of the subject, and justness of the 
sentiment, or the propriety of some of the ob- 
servations you have been reading, and so dis- 
miss all without any further concern about the 
matter ? Believe it, O Christian reader, if this 
be all the advantage you gain by it, it were 
scarce worth while to have confined yourself 
so long to the perusal of it. It has aimed, it 
has sincerely aimed, to do you a much greater 
benefit ; to bring you to a better acquaintance 
with one you express a particular regard for, 
and who is capable of being the best friend, or 
the worst enemy, you have in the world ; and 
that is yourself. It was designed to convince 
you, that, would you live and act consistently, 
either as a man or a Christian, you must know 
yourself; and to persuade you, under the in- 
fluence of the foregoing motives, and by the 
help of the fore-mentioned directions, to make 
self-knowledge the great study, and self-govern- 
ment the great business of your life. In which 



254 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

resolution may Almighty God confirm you ; and 
in which great business may his grace assist 
you, against all future discouragements and dis- 
tractions ! With him I leave the success of 
the whole ; to w T hom be glory and praise for 
ever ! 



THE END. 



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